Forbidden Fruits
by Kirsty Welsh
Summary: Ok if you're offended by arguments re homosexuality not that the guys are, or you're offended by sexual content, this story isn't for you. You have been warned! As usual Starsky is in trouble, but unusually for me, there's a lot of Hutch in here. COMPLETE
1. Chapter 1

The room was very quiet, only the sounds of quiet exhalations echoing around the white walls. Those walls were hung with eastern banners, bamboo with black lettering on them spelling out peace, tranquility, self knowledge and love. The blond man on the front row sat quietly in the lotus position, head up, hands resting on the points of his knees with finger and thumb together and his eyes closed. He was intent on his breathing, feeling the air fill his lungs and then slowly releasing it with a deep breath out through his mouth. _Om Mani Padme Hum_. The Tibetan Buddhist prayer mantra invoked the powerful benevolent attention and blessings of Chenrezig, the embodiment of compassion and Ken Hutchinson concentrated on the words.

The class had been a long one, focusing on tantric exercises that had left him feeling tired but so relaxed he could hardly contemplate getting up. The blond focused on the voice of the instructor as the man talked the class through the last of the warm downs for the evening. Although the yoga and Tai Chi class had been meant to be quiet and reflective, Hutch's white yoga outfit of loose linen top and drawstring pants was damp with sweat showing how intent the blond had been on his workout.

Along with the other 8 people in the class Hutch finally opened his eyes and looked around at the others. He chuckled as he thought of what his partner would say if Starsky were watching him now. The brunet was never one for spirituality and he could just hear that soft spoken New York voice mocking him gently.

"_Hutch you don't need to sit in a class with people closing their eyes and hummin' and chantin' to feel relaxed. Why doncha just come to Huggy's, get a couple beers. We could get pizza, Nadia, Cassy...you'll feel more relaxed after Cassy than all this crap."_

Relaxed Hutch cleared his mind again conscious he had a goofy grin on his face. He concentrated on watching the instructor go through his final exercise and at the end of it sat for a few moments of quiet reflection. It was always the same at the end of the class. The instructor would count slowly back from ten and at the end, each person would get up in their own time and head out to the changing rooms.

Feeling the final motes of tension draining from his shoulders Hutch gracefully stood up, bowed to the instructor who bowed back and walked over to the side of the room where his bag lay on the floor. He looked out of the window trying to catch sight of the striped tomato, waiting to see if Starsky was there. Coming up empty he decided he had time for a shower, walked back to the locker room and gathered his stuff. He stripped, wrapped the towel round his neck, entered a convenient stall and stood for a few moments under the hot water. Soaping himself, he looked down at his body. Not bad for a guy in his mid thirties. He'd had a rocky patch where he'd eaten and drunk more than he should. He'd given up running and had allowed his hair to grow long and his moustache to hide his mouth. Fighting with his best friend over a woman would do that to a guy, but they'd made up and then there had been the most horrific time of Hutch's life – the shooting of his partner. After that – after the months of healing for both of them, Hutch came out of the experience a stronger, more determined individual and once again he took control of his life, exercised, dieted and regained his "boy next door" good looks. Snickering at his vanity, Hutch shook his flaxen bangs to get rid of excess water, wrapped the towel around his hips and stepped back into the changing room. The rest of the group had gone back home without showering, but the blond was due to go on duty and needed to freshen up. He expected the changing rooms to be empty and was surprised therefore when he saw the instructor standing by the door as though waiting for him.

'You were pretty good in there tonight. You look like you really know how to handle yourself' the tall blond haired man said in a slight Swedish accent.

'You're not so bad yourself but I guess that's why you're the instructor and I'm the pupil. Um, Ken….Ken Hutchinson.' They shook hands and both laughed self consciously. Nigel eyed the blond up and down. Hutch was acutely aware that he was wearing nothing but a towel and the instructor – what was his name? Nick….no Nigel – roved his eyes over Hutch's water beaded chest and further down to the long, tanned legs. The gaze was not the casual glance usually associated with locker rooms and it made Hutch feel very awkward and more than a little uncomfortable.

'Are you um…by yourself Ken? I mean I didn't see you come here with anyone. I was just wondering if you wanted to um..well I don't usually ask but maybe you'd like to go for a dr...'

The words hung in the air as Nigel saw a tall, curly haired man come into the room and stop as he eyed Hutch in a towel talking to Nigel. Starsky heard the invitation, saw the hungry look in the instructor's eyes, grinned, walked up behind the blond quietly and planted a slap on Hutch's ass.

'Hey there sweetheart. How was class?' Hutch turned quickly looking at Starsky as if he had 2 heads.

The brunet seemed oblivious and continued. 'I was waiting outside. Thought I'd come in and see what was taking ya so long.' The brunet eyed Nigel appraisingly and put his hand out. 'I'm Dave. Dave Starsky, Hut…Ken's partner.'

Nigel extended his hand feeling Starskys firm handshake.

'Um..Nigel. Ken's instructor. I was just asking Ken if he wanted to go for a drink but I had no idea that you ..I mean the two of you....

Starsky grinned and draped his arm round Hutch's shoulder. The blond yelped and almost danced away from the brunet. Starsky didn't seem to notice and carried on regardless. 'Yeah well Kenny and I have been together for a couple years, aint that right honey? Starsky extended his hand to Hutch's waist caressing the still damp flesh.

The blond was more then mortified. He mumbled something under his breath that sounded like a death threat to all brunets. He was gonna kill Starsky, slowly and painfully but Starsky was continuing headlong, his usual playfulness now being given full rein. 'You um ready to get out of here Kenny babe?' Starsky's hand moved to the back of Hutch's neck to massage beneath the soaking wet bangs playfully.

Angrily Hutch batted the curly haired cop's hand away and in doing so "accidentally" ploughed his elbow into Starsky's midriff. The brunet gave a surprise humph and a strangled wheeze as he took a step backwards. Nigel watched the performance as if watching the two men at their foreplay. There was a startled look in his eye as though he were asking himself how he could have got it so wrong. Confused, he looked away.

'Well it was a pleasure to meet you Dave and um….Ken, hope to see you tomorrow. Don't forget that "Greeting the Dawn" move and um don't forget to practice.' He walked out of the lockers room leaving Hutch feeling faintly sorry for the guy. He rounded on his partner.

'Starsk, what the… I can't believe you did that! What the hell was that all about huh?' Hutch was more then pissed and he overbalanced putting his pants on, hit the wall, corrected himself and glared at Starsky for some type of answer.

The brunet was grinning from ear to ear, leaning back against the wall, arms crossed and one ankle resting over the other. He had his head on one side in that quizzical look he often adopted and he raised his eyebrow at his buddy.

'Well if you haven't noticed _partner_, I think Mr. Yoga boy there has the hots for ya.' Hutch's glare turned to a look of downright disbelief.

'Are you kidding me? I mean, he wanted a, a dddrink. A drink Starsky, not a night of sex!' Despite his words though, Hutch looked over his shoulder as though checking Nigel was nowhere in sight. Happy that the coast was clear tying he finished tying his shoelace, hustled into his holster and finger combed his hair into some kind of shape. Still muttering under his breath he finished shouldered into his jacket and pushed past the unapologetic brunet.

'Come on mushbrain, let's get out of here.'

Starsky sighed walking with Hutch back to his car contritely. Maybe he had gone over the top, but the look on Nigel and Hutch's faces had been worth it. There was always something vaguely innocent about the blond – not dumb or stupid, but sometimes the world came as a shock to Hutch, especially when it came to relationships. They got into the car in silence and Starsky waited while Hutch threw the remains of his flask of power shake onto the back seat amongst all the other junk there. Amused, the curly haired man sat with his arms folded as Hutch fumbled with the ignition keys and tried to turn on the engine. It coughed, revved, coughed and died.

'You flooded it' the brunet advised sagely.

'I know that!'

'Try pressin' the gas a few times. Pump it up.'

'What are you, the driving instructor?' Hutch snapped.

'Why, does he have the hots for you too?'

'Starsk, so help me I'll….' The car roared into life, cutting off the death threat and the blond pulled out into the traffic in front of a large pickup. It blared its horn and Hutch gave it two fingers.

'Temper temper! Hutch let me ask you somethin...'

'What?'

'You've been coming here for what..3 weeks? Now I'd like to ask, what do you do for a livin'?'

'What's this all about? I'm not in the mood.'

'I gathered that, but just answer the question' Starsky asked mildly.

'Fine. I'm a cop.'

'No, no, not just any cop, you're a Detective.'

'I'm also pissed at you. What's your point?'

'I'm coming to it. You being a detective and all you um..well you cant seem to tell that he was putting the moves on you.'

'Starsky not everyone is looking for a hop in the sack..and no..its been 2 weeks and he's a nice guy.'

'Nice as in….'

'Fuck you Starsky! I mean he's a nice guy…period. I mean what am I gonna do now? Every time I walk in there he's gonna think you and I are um..'

'Partners?' Starsky was fighting hard to keep his face straight and losing the battle. 'Oh my God Blondie! You mean to tell me, Hutch, that you cant even say it? You can't can ya? I'm crushed you know that. Here I was, bumblin' along thinkin' all this time you wanted to get in my pants...' the car swerved as Hutch punched his earstwhile partner non too gently on the arm.

'Man, Starsk you've done some pranks before but this tops 'em all.'

'What can I say? I'm on a roll.' Starsky took the microphone signing him and Hutch in as Hutch drove on with a tautness to his jaw. 'How ya doing Millie?' Starsky asked.

'Not bad for the end of my shift. Zebra three logged as rolling. Have a good night fellas' she said as Starsky put the mic down. Looking at Hutch he saw the set of his jaw and the white knuckles holding the steering wheel. He was evidently pissed.

'Hutch why the hell are you so mad? I mean if you think of it I saved your ass.'

'Would ya stop mentioning my ass?'

'Why? Am I getting' to ya? Better me than Nige.'

'Starsky, I don't want to talk about it.' Hutch turned the corner fast, spinning the wheel though his hands and sending Starsky almost on his lap. The brunet couldn't help but use Hutch's leg to get him self back up. Hutch gave him a look from the side.

'What?' Starsky asked almost as if he was the one to feel sorry for.

'Don't give me "what" Starsk. What you did back there was wrong.'

'It was a joke buddy, nuthin more. Are you gonna be talking about this all night coz if I didn't know better I think you felt bad about your yoga boy.' Starsky was pushing it, he knew. It was like he was cutting his nose off to spite his face. They both hated working nights and tonight was no better then any other night this week. The job they were on was boring in the extreme. They had to watch the activity of the ware house on 4th Street and that meant hours together in the car in the dark and the quiet with nothing else to do but talk or play the inevitable game of I Spy. Adding a pissed blond to the scenario was masochistic in the extreme.

Hutch sighed deeply. A night with a bored Starsky meant the brunet would be talking all night and that was something he was already dreading . He was already more than angry about what had happened and couldn't face a full eight hours of Starsky jokes, whining and the inevitable discussion about what made a guy want to get into another guy's pants. The blond gritted his teeth. _Calm down Hutchy. Just cool it. Do what the yoga man said and breathe._ He took an experimental breath, in through his nose and out through his mouth, imagining his anger being blown out with the air. It did no good apart from making him feel slightly light headed and he gave up with a mental shrug.

Hutch pulled up behind the building turning the motor off.

'You want the first hour Starsk..or no?

'Whatever you want Blondie doesn't matter' Starsky said affably.

'Fine.' Hutch worked his way to the back of the car, scooped all the detritus onto the floor and wriggled trying to get more comfortable. He led down and cushioned his head on last months copy of The Art of Yoga. Starsky took the front seat, placed his feet up on the dash board with his ankles crossed, folded his arms and fixed his eyes on the building.

'Hey' Hutch, you got that playboy magazine from last month back there? There was a chick in there with the biggest.....' Hutch heaved himself up and started to look through all the junk he'd accumulated. Angrily he moved the stuff around cursing under his breath.

'Here' he gave Starsky the magazine. The brunet took it and started looking at the pictures. 'Man Hutch, this is her. Did you see this chick? Look at those…..assets. What a body!'

'Starsk you know it wouldn't hurt to read a article in there instead of just looking at the pictures once in a while You never know, you just might pick something, some little tip to make Nadia's night?'

The brunet feigned hurt. 'Hey I read the articles, but sometimes ya know I don't wanna think, I just feel like lookin'.'

'That's your problem Starsk you never think.'

Starsky put his magazine down. 'Oh come on Hutch, spill it. You're really mad aren't ya? I keep tellin' ya it was a joke.'

Hutch gritted his teeth. 'I'm not mad I just want some quiet tonight. Okay? Can we just sit here and just do our job with out any complaining? Can you just do that tonight, huh?'

Starsky shuffled the magazine page ...'Fine' you want quiet ..you got it.'

Relieved the blond settled down again. He just wanted to lie back and rest and much as he hated to admit it he really was mad but at the same time he actually felt a bit guilty for treating Starsky like that. He knew how Starsky could be, well, Starsky. The brunet had always been like a little kid at heart but sometimes he just went too far and now Hutch had to figure out how he was gonna walk into Nigel's class next week and act as if he were not gay. It was like that old adage. If someone in your gang is accused of steeling sweets, it's so hard to try to look innocent even if it wasn't you. Hutch also knew by the end of the night Starsky would be paying for breakfast , buying drinks….you name it. Hutch knew Starsky had a guilt side to him to and my god was he gonna play to it. This time he was gonna let Starsky ride it out, let him sweat. He caused this situation so he'd pay – big time. With that happy thought swimming around his head, Hutch closed his eyes finally and tried to sleep.

_Be quiet Starsk, don't be a jerk Starsk. Damnit! _Starsky decided to be silent – in his own way. He sat with his magazine turning the pages louder then he needed and whistling under his breath at each new photograph. He hated when Hutch was mad at him. So maybe he did go over board with Nigel but it was a joke. He also hated sitting in the car doing nothing and more then that he hated silence. Guilt heaped up on him though. - he would give Hutch what he wanted and then after their shift take his buddy out for a big breakfast. That would get the blond, he knew Hutch and his damned healthy habits and he knew Hutch would have to break down soon. Hutch and sulking didn't go together.

Hours passed but to Starsky it seemed like more like days. The silence was unbearable. Hutch was snoring softly and guilt ridden as he was Starsky didn't have the heart to wake him and take the other half of the night in the back seat. He decided to let Hutch sleep through the whole shift. Maybe that's what Hutch needed. Maybe he'd had a bad night with Cassy. Maybe….


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2 - WARNINGS FOR SEX.....c'mon the boys need a little fun!**

Starsky completed the rest of the night in silence, not wanting to wake Hutch from his sleep. The brunet could understand that his partner was upset at his practical joke, but jeez, the blond could be angry for the USA, in fact he could make it into an Olympic sport and win! Maybe a good night of sleep in the back of the car would improve his temper.

Finally as the first Bay City birds coughed into life and the sun started to shine through the morning smog Starsky turned stiffly in his seat and prodded at Hutch's foot. The blond twitched his nose but otherwise there was no response and finally Starsky resorted to calling his partner's name. It had the desired effect and slowly crystal blue eyes opened, closed and opened again as Hutch stifled a yawn. Sitting up however seemed to be a mistake and the blond groaned loudly and melodramatically as he clutched at the back of his neck.

'What time is it?' he asked unhappily.

'Mornin' time' Starsky replied.

'Why'd ya let me sleep so long?' the blond snapped, massaging the huge knot in his neck muscle.

'Well good mornin' to you Starsky. Thanks a bunch for lettin' me get a full eight hours of shut eye while you keep watch. Oh not a problem partner – anythin' for a friend!'

'Sarcasm is the lowest form of wit.'

'Better'n no wit at all. Speaking of which what the hell are you so grumpy for? You're not still pissed about yesterday?'

Hutch hauled himself into the front seat of his battered brown LTD and ran his fingers through his sleep mussed hair. He refused to answer but glared at his own reflection in the rear view mirror and made a grunting sound in his throat. Starsky swallowed down a chuckle.

'I'll take that as a yes then. What about breakfast? My treat. I promised. We could go to that new place……what's it called? Um….Been counted?'

'Bean Counter' Hutch said with a dignified sigh 'and you can't buy me with fresh alfalfa sprouts and wheatgerm buddy. I need the love of a good woman right now and Cassy's magic fingers diggin' into…..'

Starsky snorted and winked his eye at his partner, who carried on regardless.

'…..my Trapezius.'

Again the brunet V'd his eyebrows. 'So that's what they're callin' it these days?'

Hutch scowled at him. 'I'm goin' home Starsk. If you keep quiet like a good little cop, I might just drop you off at yours on the way. One more word though an' you'll be running behind. Got that?'

Starsky nodded his head emphatically but wisely kept his mouth shut as Hutch sped away from the curb and out into the early morning traffic.

Letting himself into his still darkened apartment, Starsky closed the front door quietly behind him and peeped into the bedroom. He gave a contented smile as he saw Nadia's body sprawled naked across his bed, the single white sheet cast randomly across her thighs and her brunette head laying on his own pillow. She'd been his lady for a good few months now and had semi-moved into his place a couple of weeks ago. Their life together was good although Nadia was still getting used to dating a cop. As a forensic scientist, she was brainy as well as beautiful with long, silky dark brown tresses, deep brown eyes and a smile that always melted his heart but she couldn't grasp the need for the cop to be away at odd hours.

Unwilling to wake her just yet, Starsky prised off his shoes and padded barefoot into the bathroom. He turned on the shower and got the rest of his clothes off before standing under the steaming stream of water. After a night of sitting cramped in Hutch's old car, the hot water felt good on his cramped muscles and he scrubbed luxuriously at his curly hair, shaking his head briskly to get rid of the droplets before getting out and towelling himself dry, the towel rasping against the new growth of bristle on his cheeks and chin. Deciding not to waste time on shaving, the brunet picked his clothes up and dumped them tidily in the laundry basket.

Naked, Starsky walked quietly into his bedroom and around to his own side of the bed. As he got in, Nadia stirred and opened her eyes. Sleepily she smiled at him and shuffled over in the bed, rolling onto her back to give him access to her naked body and her large full breasts.

'Mmmmm Dave…..missed you' she mumbled, her eyes slipping closed again.

'Hey sweetheart. I'm sorry, the job overtook me again. God you look good enough to eat' Starsky said, curling his body around Nadia and running his fingers through her hair. Gently he bent down and kissed the woman at the base of her throat, moving his lips up from her neck to her chin and finally her lips, his breath warm against her cool skin. Claiming her mouth as his own, Starsky cradled her head in his hands as his tongue gently pushed inside questing playfully. Answering him, Nadia's tongue shyly touched his and drew away again, encouraging him to search deeper.

Finally drawing away slightly breathlessly, he looked down into her deep brown eyes as she regarded him levelly. 'Where were you last night?' Nadia whispered.

'Had to work late honey. Sorry.'

'You could have called me.'

'Didn't I? Damn, I'm sorry honey. I thought I'd…..mmmmm that's good. Do that again?' Starsky's excuse was cut short by the sweet sensation of a slim cool hand wrapped around the centre of his body. It twitched as though with a life of its own and grew harder beneath Nadia's searching fingers as she breathed against Starsky's neck.

'I was worried.'

Rolling onto his back, the brunet pushed up against her hand, thrusting himself into her fist as Nadia's hand started to stroke him up and down, her index finger tracing the outline of the tiny opening as he shivered and moaned low in his throat. 'I can look after myself, I'm a big boy.'

'That you are' Nadia breathed, bending down to lap delicately at the silky smooth flesh. Her tongue ran down the underside of his shaft laying a cool wet trail along his length before hitting the wiry hairs at the base and making its way back up. Shivering, the brunet arched his back as he felt her take him into her mouth, her lips closing around him.

'Do that again' the cop mumbled as his hands raked thin red lines down Nadia's back.

'You want more big boy?'

Starsky snorted. 'I want everythin' you've got baby.'

'Everything?' Nadia asked, her lips being replaced by her hand again as it started to pump harder against Starsky's raging hard on.

'Oh yeah……yeah' he muttered, clawing at the sheets with his hands. His cock was jerking alarmingly against Nadia's hand. It had been a long night and Starsky had found an old copy of Playboy to keep himself awake during his hours of otherwise boredom. The pictures of the beautiful naked girls and the stories had left him feeling the need for sex and now his dreams were coming true as Nadia continued to pump at him faster and harder. Finally the sensation swapped as Nadia straddled Starsky's hips. She grinned down at him as he opened one deep blue eye and watched her lower herself slowly onto his rod of flesh. Nadia sighed as she eased herself down. Starsky was big and she paused to better accommodate him before grinding her hips against him. The brunet groaned and bit at the edge of his pillow fighting for some control as Nadia began to ride him hard.

The friction and the sensations were almost too much to bear and Starsky had his head buried in the pillows on his bed. He bucked his hips and unhurriedly Nadia gracefully got off him. Almost savagely, he pushed Nadia's head down again and groaned as he felt her lips once more enclosing him. Her tongue and teeth working him into a frenzy of pent up emotions.

'Shiiiit honey. Oh my god, that's so good. That's so…..I can't hold on much longer….can't stop myself. I'm gonna….gonna….Nadia? Babe? Shit don't stop….'

But Nadia seemed deaf to his pleas and was now rising up on her elbow to look down into his deep indigo eyes, her hands hovering over his chest.

'I was so worried about you, but you never even rang to say where you were.'

The brunet's eyes opened, for a moment startled by her tone. 'I was workin' honey. I was…..'

'And you couldn't find a moment to phone me? You couldn't find a vacant phone booth. Dave Starsky, you're incorrigible. You're worse than that, you need a lesson in manners.' With that, Nadia turned her back on her man, pulled the sheet up around her chin and slammed her head onto the pillow.

Starsky was stunned. 'I….I didn't realise. I….Nadia….honey! Ya can't leave me like this. I need…..I'm all……shit!' But the brunet was talking to his woman's back. Nadia hunched up, the sheet pulled up tightly around her chin, leaving Starsky without relief. For a moment he lay, stunned and more than a little uncomfortable before he leaned over, planted a kiss on Nadia's naked shoulder and padded into the bathroom to come up with a solution to his own problem.

Five minutes later, with his hands washed and the centre of his body once more in control, Starsky walked quietly back into the bedroom, got carefully into bed and curled himself around the warm body of his lady. Nadia smiled to herself, feeling her body melt into his and bask in his warmth. That would serve Dave right for taking her for granted!

Across town, Hutch was having problems of his own. He'd slept all night in the back of his car but was far from refreshed. His neck muscles had locked into a solid knot, he had a slight headache and was still uncomfortable at what Starsky had done the day before. Trying his best to analyse why he should feel so bad, the blond came up with one, and only one conclusion. Nigel was gay ergo he fancied the pants off Hutch and had tried to chat him up in the shower. However much Hutch had protested in the past that he had no problem with homosexuals, to have another man hit on him like that had left him unnerved and with a and taste in his mouth. Whether that was from the chat up line, or whether it was from his own realisation that he was not as broad minded as he'd thought, the blond had still to work out. Whatever it was, his reaction to Starsky's prank was way out of order, fuelled by his own uneasiness.

The tall, flaxen haired man let himself into his own apartment at Venice Place, showered, towelled himself dry and headed for bed. He needed time to himself to work out his thoughts but as he rounded the corner to his bedroom, his heart missed a beat. Cassy had propped herself up on the pillows, the sheet pulled demurely up around her chest. She smiled her usual brilliant smile at her man and patted the mattress next to her.

'Had a good night honey?' she asked in her low, husky voice.

'Um…..it was uncomfortable' the blond replied truthfully.

'Awww. C'mon, let's see if I can put it all right for you.'

Hutch's body lurched to attention but his mind rebelled. After a night of thinking about Nigel's advances, sex was really the last thing on his mind. His body, however, told a different story which Cassy read perfectly.

'Someone's happy to see me' she grinned, pulling the towel from around Hutch's hips. She discarded it, pulling her man to her as she shuffled to the edge of the bed, her face now inches from his erection. Joyfully, Cassy took her first taste of him, her tongue languidly flicking over his tip before she took him into her mouth and sucked. There was no way she could accommodate the whole of him. Hutch was the biggest guy she'd ever known, but she still managed to satisfy him……mostly.

This morning however, as Hutch looked down at Cassy going to work on the centre of his body, what should have been an erotic precursor to their love making dwindled into a nightmare as Hutch's fevered imagination ran riot and instead of seeing the long sleek blond hair and pretty face of his girlfriend, he saw a crew cut blond haired man looking up at him.

Hutch blinked and shook his head to get rid of the ghastly vision. Damn Nigel. Damn Starsky. Fuck the lot of 'em! He was home with his girl, enjoying her attention. And yet……

Gently Hutch touched Cassy's shoulder and she stopped, her liquid blue eyes regarding him playfully. 'Didn't I do it right?' she pouted.

'Oh baby, you do everythin' right' Hutch replied hoarsely. 'It's just been a real long night an' I feel a migraine comin' on' he lied, is fingers crossed behind his back. He hated fobbing Cassy off with some story, but he couldn't enjoy making love to her with visions of his yoga teacher floating around in his head. Nigel had left him with a creepy, greasy feeling in the pit of his stomach and all he wanted to do was sleep and forget.

Cassy immediately stopped. 'Aww Hutch I'm sorry. I didn't know. C'mon and lie down here and I'll get you a cold compress for your head.'

'I'm fine honey, don't fuss. I just need to sleep.'

'But you're…..'

'I said I'm fine' Hutch said, more sharply than he'd wanted to. 'I'm sorry. I guess I'm just too tired. Yeah, a compress would be good….and maybe a couple of aspirin?'

The woman wriggled out of bed and wandered naked into his kitchen in search of cloth and pills. Hutch propped himself up on his elbow and reached for the phone.

Across town, Starsky was semi awake as he felt the same hand stroking his thighs gently. His cock, which had never truly gone to sleep, leapt to attention, begging for some new caress. It didn't have to wait long for Nadia's hand to start to stroke it. Lips followed hand and tongue followed lips as Starsky floated into wakefulness. This was definitely the way to be woken up and he seemed to have been forgiven for his misdemeanour.

As Nadia started to tease him in earnest, Starsky groaned and flung his arm over his eyes. Heaven….this was truly heaven. Nadia was attacking him with long slow strokes of her tongue, each wet trail ending in a delicate kiss on the tip of his cock before starting again. Each stroke brought him closer to ecstasy. Each stroke….

Ring.

_Damn the phone. Ok ignore it._

Ring.

'_Not happening, not happening!_

Ring.

Starsky angrily reached for his bedside phone and snapped into it. 'What?'

Hutch's voice sounded down the line, as much anger in it as there as in the brunet's. 'I hope you're enjoying the morning as much as I am….._Buddy_. Did I get the timing right?'

The phone went dead about the same time as Starsky's cock did. Nadia looked crestfallen and lay back down on the bed. 'No?' she asked quietly.

'No' the brunet mumbled angrily.

Across town, the blond put the phone down with an evil grin. If he couldn't have fun, neither would his partner. He smiled as Cassy returned and lay back as she placed the cold compress on his head. Slowly the centre of his body came back to life…….


	3. Chapter 3

By mid afternoon both men were up, showered and ready for another night of boredom. They'd been watching the same warehouse and the same flakes entering and leaving for almost a week. Once or twice they'd caught a glimpse of crates being shifted inside. A couple of times they'd noted flatbed trucks delivering what looked like coffee grounds to the front door and once Hutch had managed to identify Zeb Lake, the man they were meant to arrest. As yet though, they had insufficient information to make any charges stick. From the contents of their notebooks, any self respecting DA would laugh them out of court. It all meant that for the sixth night on the trot they would be camping outside Warehouse number 23, Pier 5, Bay City Old Docks and this time, having used the Torino and Hutch's LTD, they would have to use a different vehicle.

At 5:30 promptly, Starsky arrived outside Venice Place driving a dark blue Oldsmobile Delta 88 Royale. The top was down and the brunet looked very pleased with himself as Hutch walked dubiously around to the passenger side of the car and got in.

'Where the hell did ya find this heap?' the blond asked as he sunk into the cream leather seats. They hugged him like a lover and against his better judgement, he wriggled to get even more comfortable. Starsky beamed.

'This my friend is our ticket to a night of utter comfort. All leather interior, comfortable back seats….'

'No roof.'

The brunet glared at his partner from under his eyebrows and hit a button on the dash. It released catches and he got out and with minimum effort hauled the rag top into place. With an audible sigh, Starsky got back into the drivers seat and pointed upwards. 'Roof' he said unnecessarily.

'Hmmmph.'

'Hutch are you still pissed at me? It's been 24 hours buddy. It was a joke and I admit it was tasteless. I promise I won't do it again.'

There was something schoolboyish about the way the curly haired cop said the words and Hutch cast a sideways glance. Starsky was looking down at his hands, reflectively picking at some dry skin around his thumb nail. He looked the picture of contrition and just a little bit like a first grader caught with his hands in the cookie jar. Hutch sighed.

'Nope, not mad. Just didn't have too good a sleep.'

'Ohhh, me neither! Nadia does this thing with her tongue and….. What? What did I say?'

'Starsk does everythin' come down to sex with you?'

'Pretty much, why? Do you have higher morals Hutchinson, or are you just frustrated coz Cassy wasn't in the mood?'

'Oh she was in the mood. I mean…..' Hutch blushed a shade or two pinker.

'Ha! Gotcha!' Starsky snapped triumphantly. The blond glared at him.

'Just drive huh? Zebediah Lake awaits.'

Starsky set the car in motion and pulled away from the curb. He was about to hang a right when Hutch paused. 'Can we make a detour? I need to go by the yoga studio.'

The brunet's eyebrow shot up. 'It's a bit late for a class, we should be in position by 7:00 and we still have to drive out there.'

Hutch shook his head. 'Uh uh. No class. After yesterday, I don't think I could face the tutor again. Come to think of it he kinda creeps me out. There's just some way he stares at one spot' Hutch placed his hands over his crotch without realising and Starsky hiccoughed down a snicker.

'Uh huh?'

'Well he…..oh my god! I'm blind aren't I? I never realised he…..until last night when you….Jeez!'

Starsky's voice turned sympathetic. 'You still wanna call by?'

'I need to. I left my gym bag in all the confusion yesterday. It has by running shoes in it and some other stuff.' Hutch looked at his watch. 'If we're quick I can get in there, get the bag and get out before Nigel comes in and the class starts. Somehow I really don't wanna meet him again any time soon.'

'You gonna write him a "Dear Nigel" letter?' Starsky grinned.

'Right after I get through with knocking that smile off of your face partner. I told ya, shudup and drive huh?'

The brunet flipped a cheeky salute. 'Sure thing boss' he deadpanned and turned the car in the direction of downtown. The drive took almost no time at all and before he knew it, Starsky had pulled up outside the studio and switched off the engine. The brunet looked expectantly at Hutch who looked up at the window of the building and then back at his partner.

'Well?' Starsky asked.

'Well what? I'm goin'!' And yet Hutch paused, his hand on the door handle of the car.

'Want backup partner? It's a dangerous assignment but we're up to it.'

Once again Hutch's face reddened. 'I told you to can it Starsk. It's bad enough that Nigel thinks we're raving….. that we're partners in another sense of the word without you makin' this whole episode into some kind of a joke.'

Starsky wiped the cheeky grin off his face. 'I promise I won't say a word.'

'It aint just the words I'm worried about. You have a knack of upsettin' the least excited person just by lookin' at 'em.'

Starsky looked aggrieved. 'Do not' he muttered petulantly and followed quietly behind as Hutch walked up the steps to the gym on the first floor. Opening the door quietly the blond poked his head inside and cocked an ear to listen for movement. Hearing nothing, he opened the door fully and walked in quietly followed and by Starsky who looked around and whistled tunelessly under his breath.

'Shush' Hutch hissed as he headed for the changing rooms.

'Why? There aint no one here but us mice' the brunet replied loudly. As though to emphasise the point he took a basketball from a net slung over the wall bars and bounced it on the polished wooden floor. Hutch grabbed it from him and dumped it angrily back into the keep net.

'Just go an' wait downstairs huh?' he snapped.

Starsky placed his hands behind his back. 'Sorry' he whispered. 'Have you got your stuff? We don't want Elvis the pelvis trying to jump your bones again,'

'He did not jump my bones.'

'No? Then why did you want backup up here partner?'

'Can I help you Ken?' Nigel's voice sounded from the small office he used opposite the changing rooms. Both detectives froze and then whirled around and started.

'I um…well I…..didn't. I mean, I did…..want my friend…..Starsky……my partner…….cop partner, not um….' Hutch stammered turning an attractive shade of pink.

'Not any other sort of partner' Starsky finished a little too loudly. 'We're not gay……not that there's anything wrong with gay people huh Hutch?'

The blond shook his head emphatically. 'No, nothin' wrong at all. I just didn't want to make an ass of…..no, not ass……wrong word…..not that there's anythin' wrong with asses. I….'

Nigel's face was a curious mixture of anger and amusement. 'You seem a little uncomfortable Ken. Is something the matter?'

'Matter? No, nothing. I mean I just wanted to get my clothes so that um….'

'He likes to run' Starsky offered. 'Running shoes…..in the bag. He needed them.'

'Do you run too?' the yoga teacher asked leaning on the door jamb with his arms crossed. 'You can get changed here if you like?'

'NO' both men said quickly. 'Got the shoes. Got to run….I mean not now…..run……we need to go to work' Hutch stammered.

'Yeah, we have to get to work….together. Well not together but…..'

Nigel smiled knowingly. 'Don't worry Mr Starsky, you and Ken go and have a good night huh? I was just about to set up for the class.'

The two cops left quickly, Hutch carrying his holdall under his arm. As they got outside the gym and half way down the stairs Starsky snorted. "You and Ken go and have a good night" What's that supposed t'mean?'

'Dunno' Hutch said, almost tripping over Starsky on the stairs. 'But I didn't like the way he was sizing you up buddy. Wanna get changed in his changing room?'

'Would I want to stick my hand in the fire?'

'I dunno. I think you and Nige would make a lovely couple' Hutch grinned.

'I'll give you a tip buddy. The next time you have a shower chez Nigel, and you drop the soap, don't bend down to pick it up unless your back is against the wall huh?'

Hutch made a snorting noise and started to walk down the steps but Starsky hung back. The blond looked back. 'Comin'?'

'Not the right choice of words Blondie! No, but I could do with a pee.'

'Starsky your bladder must be the size of a pea! Can't ya hold it?'

'No.'

'You wanna go back up there and have Nigel catch ya with your fly undone?'

The brunet cocked his head on one side, considering. 'When you put it that way……suddenly I feel I could wait all night if I had to.' Starsky skipped down the rest of the steps and followed Hutch out to the Oldsmobile as the door to the gym shut softly behind them.

Nigel walked back into his office and sat down quietly. Slowly he untied the drawstring to his pants and pushed his hand inside, slowly massaging himself as he looked at a picture of the yoga class in front of him. It showed the entire class but on the front row, the picture of Hutch was circled in heavy black marker.

Nigel closed his eyes and let his head rest back on the chair back. He thought of the golden skinned, flaxen haired man with the long legs and the large bulge in his pants and slowly his breathing increased until he was panting, his hand working furiously. As his climax came, he held his breath. 'Kennnnnn' he moaned into the quiet of the gym studio. 'Why? Why do that to me?'

O+O+O+O+O+O+O+O+O+O+O+O+O+O+O+O+O+O+O+O+O+O+O+O+O+O+O

Around midnight there was some movement outside the warehouse owned by Zeb Lake. A flatbed truck pulled up quietly to the side entrance to the big building, its headlights doused and its engine cut. It coasted silently to a stop and a couple of men got out, looking around them warily. Hutch nudged Starsky who had been dozing in the front seat and quietly picked up the microphone.

'Zebra three to rubber ducky' he murmured softly. The radio crackled and a second later Bo Henrikson's voice sounded across the airwaves.

'Go for it?'

'Uh huh, nice and quiet boys.' The blond replaced the mic. on the cradle and slouched down in his seat. By his side Starsky kept his curly head low watching for the under cover panel truck the Metro had hired to deliver their swat team to the site. As it came around the corner and pulled to a halt the two detectives drew their weapons checked them, cocked and locked them and got out of the car. Crouching, they ran across the road and joined Henrikson and Hagedoorn behind the truck. The two older cops also had their guns at the ready. They nodded their greetings to Hutch and the brunet.

'Rickson and Neil are in position around the back and Watson and Chun are on the west side covering the side exit. We're ready as we'll ever be.'

Starsky nodded. 'Fine. You two go in, introduce yourselves and we'll be right behind ya, and guys? Be careful huh?'

Hutch watched as Henrikson and Hagedoorn checked one final time on their weapons, stowed them safely out of sight and walked confidently into the warehouse. There was a pause of perhaps three or four minutes before a shout went up and there was the unmistakable sound of gunfire coming from inside the building.

'All units, go, go, go' Hutch snapped into his walkie talkie. He and Starsky launched themselves forwards guns at the ready and hurtled into the building. The lights had been turned off leaving pitch blackness inside and for a moment both men paused, allowing their eyes to adjust to night vision. Ahead, they saw a group of men circling Henrikson. Hagedoorn was down, his body curled against his partner's feet and as one of Zeb Lake's men stepped forwards to launch a kick at the injured cop another shot rang out and Chun's voice yelled 'Police, freeze' into the darkness.

All hell broke loose at that stage. Guns fired, their muzzles showing white hot explosions in the dark. The smell of cordite lay heavy in the air and cops and flakes were reduced to hand to hand fighting.

Hutch and Starsky launched themselves into the fray. 'Get to Hagedoorn, I'll keep 'em off ya' the brunet grunted as they surged forward. He thought he heard an answering grunt from Hutch but in the general commotion it was difficult to make out. They both headed for the two older cops though and as they got to Henrikson, Hutch sank to his knees to shelter and check out Hagedoorn. Starsky stood shoulder to shoulder with Henrikson.

'What kept ya?' the older man asked breathlessly.

'You seemed like you had it covered, we didn't want to spoil your fun' the brunet grinned into the darkness.

'Simon took a slug' Henrikson said softly. I couldn't see where.'

'I know. We're gonna get him out' Starsky replied, his stomach in knots. He imagined how it would be if it was Hutch lying injured on the ground and he yelled into the darkness. 'Blondie, how's our man?'

'He's ok, so far as I can see he took one in the groin. He aint gonna be sitting down for a while, but I think he'll be good.'

The gunfire had subsided somewhat and as Hutch spoke someone managed to get to the light switch. The cavernous interior of the warehouse blazed into light again and showed a picture Dante would have been proud to paint. Men were lying on the ground, some blood splattered, others dead or unconscious. Chun had a large gash over his right eye, the blood trickling down his face giving him a devilish look. Watson was out cold and Rickson and Neil were busy cuffing and checking out Lake's men. Zeb Lake himself was sitting propped up against the wheel arch of a large truck at the side of the building. His eyes were closed and blood flowed from a wound on his chest. Several of Lake's men were dead or injured, others standing cowed against the wall of the warehouse, cuffed and ready for the truck to take them down town.

Starsky helped Hutch to his feet as Henrikson knelt by the side of his own partner, cradling the man in his arms.

'I'll go radio for the meat wagon' Hutch said gently. He'll be fine Sven, really.'

Henrikson smiled up tiredly at the blond. 'We did good' he said, looking around at the scene of devastation. 'We nailed the sucker.'

'That we did' Hutch agreed. He and Starsky started to walk away back to the door of the warehouse. They'd almost reached the opening when suddenly a cry of warning rang out. It was accompanied less than a second later by a gunshot and within another second Hutch had spun around and was hitting the floor.

Quick as a rattler striking Starsky had his Smith and Wesson in his hand. He whirled and crouched with panther like grace, putting his own body between the attacker and Hutch and glared at Zeb Lake's right hand man, crouched next to his boss' body on the ground. The main man had managed to lever himself up into a sitting position and Tiny McPherson had his arm around him aiming his gun at the two detectives. The brunet acted on pure instinct as McPherson raised his gun again and without thought the weapon sang twice in Starsky's hand. A moment later a look of intent surprise passed over McPherson's face, just before he fell sideways onto the ground and closed his eyes for the last time, his body falling across the legs of an angry looking Lake.

'You haven't heard the last of this' Lake snarled. 'I'll hunt you down. I'll make the two of you pay. I'll make the whole fuckin' lot of you pay.'

'Shudup' Starsky snapped and whirled back to his partner. Hutch was struggling to sit up his face white and twisted in pain. He clutched his right arm to his side and hissed as Starsky helped him to the vertical.

'Hutch? What happened?'

'Bullet happened.'

'Where?'

'Arm.' Hutch said unnecessarily. He bent over and stifled down a groan as he clutched his forearm to his chest.

'Can ya stand? Starsky asked, his hands already helping Hutch to his feet.

'Arm buddy, not leg. I'm good. I'm…..oh shit!' the building spun and the blond bent over double and deposited his supper onto the ground, coughing and spitting to clear his throat.

'Yeah, real good. C'mon partner, lets get the meat wagon huh?'


	4. Chapter 4

The wait at the hospital had been interminable. Not classed as urgent, Hutch had waited patiently in line to be seen by one of the doctors. He was xrayed, poked and prodded and finally the medic pronounced that Hutch had been lucky and that the bullet had merely skimmed the surface and had not damaged the bone beneath. Hutch himself surveyed the bloody wound and the blackening bruise around it on his forearm. His arm felt as though it was on fire and his fingers refused to move under their own steam – right at that moment, he didn't feel particularly lucky. The blond was handed over to a senior nurse who expertly inserted five stitches into the wound, dressed it and bandaged the limb adding a sling to complete the job.

'Doctor Turner says you shouldn't use that arm for at least 48 hours. The wound is right across the muscle so any movement could open up the stitches again. You're gonna be one handed for a while.'

Starsky grinned. 'Some things only take one hand honey' he said cheekily as Hutch rolled his eyes and slung his jacket over his shoulder. Ignoring his partner he smiled at the nurse.

'Ignore him. I'm taking him back to his ward now, they were laundering his straight jacket. He'll be fine once he has his medication. Thanks for patching me up.'

The nurse met the piercing crystal blue gaze, giggled and blushed. Not all her patients were the tall blond golden type and Hutch had made a refreshing change, as had the handsome brunet who had refused to leave his partner's side throughout. Starsky took charge of the small bottle of pain meds the nurse handed to them and then walked quietly by Hutch's side out to the car. Solicitously he opened the door for the blond who eased himself down into the soft leather seats and let his head rest back on the headrest.

'Tired? Or are ya hurtin'?' Starsky asked as he started the engine and pulled out of the parking lot.

'Both…..and then some.'

'Home and bed then?'

'Home yeah, bed yeah, but Cassy's gonna be pissed that all I wanna do is sleep.'

'Well, if she's missin' out, I don't mind takin' one for the team' Starsky teased. It was a long standing joke with them that the brunet had gone out with Cassy before Hutch had become her man. They had parted on good terms because and he still admired that she was tall, blond, well stacked and with a sense of humour to die for. And now she was all Hutch's.

The blond opened his eyes and rolled his head sideways grinning tiredly. 'Gee thanks partner! You're a real friend, but I'll manage somehow.'

Starsky grinned back. 'What a trooper' he sighed as he pulled up outside Venice Place. 'Do you think you'll be fit enough for a drink at the Pits tonight? I feel like we've been working non stop for years.'

'We have been workin' non stop! I'll ask Cassy if she wants to go out. Is Nadia gonna come along?'

Starsky shook his head. 'Wednesdays she goes to see her Mom. I'm a bachelor for the night.'

Hutch got out of the car, stretched his back and waved. 'God help the ladies then' he snorted. 'See you about 8:00 huh? I'll drive.'

It was the brunet's turn to snort. 'I hate your driving at the best of times. You drivin' one handed is enough to get us both back in the ER. I'll drive.'

'Tell you what, we'll both take cars. That way, if Cassy wants…..needs……well if we need to leave early, we won't cramp your style buddy.'

Starsky gave a brief thumbs up, watched attentively as the blond wove his way to his front door and then turned the car for home, the excitement of the past few hours finally hitting home to him too.

O+O+O+O+O+O+O+O+O+O+O+O+O+O+O+O+O+O+O+O+O+O+O+O+O+O

In a gym across town Nigel finished up his class. He'd hoped that Ken, the staggeringly handsome blond man would come back to his yoga class. This was the night where he combined yoga techniques with Tai Chi and some Karate moves too. The class was like a fight ballet in slow motion and the first time he'd seen Ken make the moves, his body toned and his muscles taut beneath his white pants and loose top, Nigel had almost lost self control right there and then.

It wasn't just Ken's looks that attracted the yoga teacher. It was the fact that the blond had a good, fit, athletic body and had an air about him of someone who knew how to handle himself. He walked with a certain assuredness and even the stammer that became apparent when Ken was confused or uncertain was a turn on.

Nigel always made a point of sitting opposite Ken when they were warming down at the end of a session. Then, when the blond man was sitting in the lotus position, cross legged, he had the best view of what Hutch's body had to offer and when the cop's eyes were closed in meditation, he could gaze longingly at the alarmingly large bulge between the long legs without interruption.

As the yoga teacher got up, bowed to the class and walked quietly back to the small office he used, he took the towel from around his neck, sat down on his chair and reached for the well used, creased and marked photograph of the class. Gently he rubbed his thumb over the picture of Ken, sat in quiet contemplation at the front of the group.

'You shouldn't have done that Ken. You shouldn't have made fun of me. I love you, but I can't bear you making fun of me. You and that fag of a partner. You're making me mad Ken and I hate being mad. Where were you tonight? Rutting with your cutsey little curly haired whore? You could do better Ken. You could have had me. Now I'm gonna have to teach the two of you a lesson.'

O+O+O+O+O+O+O+O+O+O+O+O+O+O+O+O+O+O+O+O+O+O+O+O+O+O

The Pits was already warming up when Hutch and Cassy walked through the door together. They were the first there and they grabbed a booth at the back of the room as Huggy Bear, the proprietor brought over a tray with a beer, a white wine and a small dish of peanuts. He put them down on the table, had a few words with Hutch and then went back to the bar to serve.

With his arm still throbbing furiously and with the sling still keeping his injured limb out of the way, Hutch didn't feel much like dancing. The two of them sat quietly, people watching and enjoying a night of relaxation for once. It wasn't until about 8:45 that Starsky finally walked into the bar and looked around. He waved a greeting to Huggy who was busy behind the bar, looked around with a practiced eye and spotted Hutch and Cassy in the booth. The brunet threaded his way across the small crowded dancefloor and eased himself onto the seat by his partner. He kissed Cassy and then appraised the blond.

'How's the arm?' he asked above the noise of the music.

'Could be better, but it could be a whole lot worse.'

'He insisted we come out tonight. I wanted him to stay home and rest' Cassy said, cuddling up to Hutch and laying her head on his shoulder.

Starsky grinned. 'He's such a brave little cop aint he? Do you want a drink?'

The evening passed by quietly. Despite his joking, Starsky knew that Hutch's wound would be hurting like hell by now. They met up with Neil, Chun and Henrikson to celebrate although Sven Henrikson was anxious to get back to the hospital to see to Hagedoorn. Simon was going to make it but the bullet had narrowly missed his liver and he would be off work for some time. Despite the celebration, there was an air of tension between the men. They were all tired and by 11:00 all the colour had drained from Hutch's face and his head was beginning to droop.

'He's great out of the traps but he has no staying power' Starsky grinned as he gently tapped Hutch on the shoulder. 'Hey….Rip Van Winkle! C'mon Blondie, the party's over. The other guys have gone home and Cassy wants to tuck you up in bed….or at least that's what I thought she said.'

Cassy giggled and poked the brunet in the ribs. 'Dave, you're terrible!'

'Yeah, that's what they all say. Here, gimme a hand with the blond blintz.'

Hutch scrubbed at his face with his good hand. 'I can handle it' he mumbled indistinctly but as he got up he wobbled and grabbed for the table.

'Uh huh….and that's without a drink! Go home partner. Let Cassy look after ya and I'll see you tomorrow huh?'

Hutch smiled gratefully. He was tired – bone tired and his arm throbbed in time with his heart beat. The wound felt as though it were on fire and he wanted nothing more than to go home, lie down and sleep. Even the lovely Cassy would be unable to get a rise out of him tonight. He leaned heavily on the smaller man as the three made their way out to the car. Cassy took the keys and got into the drivers side of Hutch's LTD whilst Starsky solicitously helped his partner into the passenger seat. He banged on the roof of the car.

'See you tomorrow' he said as Cassy pulled away. The brunet watched as the car got down to the end of the alley, turned the corner and disappeared from view. Smiling to himself he walked back into the Pits and got a seat at the bar, in the corner where he could lean on the wall and watch the people dancing.

He could see virtually the whole room from his vantage point apart from one dark corner across the room. It was unfortunate that the lighting there was bad and that the bodies of the dancers on the floor masked the small dimly lit booth. If he had had a clear view, Starsky might have seen a tall thin man sitting drawn back into the shadows. If he'd been able to look closer, he might have recognised the slightly florid face and the toned body and if he'd had time, he might even have said hello to Nigel, the yoga instructor.

From his vantage point in the booth, however, Nigel could see everything he needed to. He'd discovered the Pits after a chance remark Hutch had made after a class. He'd called in at the place a couple of times in case the blond might have been there having a drink, just so that he could casually say "Hi". He'd been unlucky and had never had that opportunity. Now, after the humiliation heaped on him by that bloody curly haired poodle of a cop and by Ken himself, he was here on a completely different kind of errand. Tonight he'd got lucky. Tonight he'd seen both Ken and Starsky and even more luckily, he'd seen the love of his life drive home leaving the brunet on his own.

Ideas flowed through Nigel's head. Retribution was at the forefront. He'd always had to hide his sexual preferences. His Dad had once found him and Chuck, a boy from school on the bed together, locked in an embrace. The ex-marine had been horrified that a son of his should prefer the same sex to all the beautiful Californian girls and had sent Nigel's friend packing. He'd taken the stunned boy by his arm, had dragged him into the bathroom and had taken a scouring pad to his penis and balls, telling him he was a dirty filthy little whoreboy and that no son of his was going to be a faggot.

After that, Nigel had realised that he must keep his homosexuality a secret. He met other boys and men in dark, seedy motel rooms or down back alleys. Their liaisons were always brief and had a dirty secretive quality and although Nigel got relief from those meetings, he still longed to be loved and accepted for what he was.

When Hutch joined his class, he was at once attracted to the handsome blond, not only because of his good looks, golden tan and toned body, but also because he sensed a man who was unafraid of getting in touch with his emotions. In Nigel's mind that translated as someone who would love him and care for him and he fantasised about the flaxen haired man all day and all night. Ken became an obsession and within a week, Nigel had planned a life together, a house, a loving relationship and a happy future where Ken would love him as much as Nigel would love Ken.

When Starsky arrived on the scene and Nigel saw how close he was to the love of his life, jealousy reared its ugly head, but he still had hopes that he could turn Ken's head away from the brunet. After all, what could a curly haired cop give Ken that Nigel couldn't? He didn't even seem particularly athletic and certainly wasn't attuned to his body like Ken was. There had always been a spirituality about the blond that Nigel tapped into and admired. Starsky had no such finer qualities in Nigel's opinion and after he'd heard the brunet poking fun at him, he knew he needed to be taught a lesson.

Carefully Nigel watched the brunet and Ken as they talked side by side. It mattered not that there was a woman with Ken – she was irrelevant, but the sight of the two cops smiling and joking together left the yoga instructor sick to his stomach. What were they laughing about? Him? Were they still sharing the joke about gays? Faggots? Dirty little whoreboys like his Dad had called him? He could imagine how the dark curly haired man would be making fun of him right now and all the time he watched, anger and a deep loathing grew inside him. They both needed to be taught a lesson. Maybe then they'd understand how he felt.

Nigel's mind ran a mile a minute, playing out scenarios and planning. When Hutch finally left Starsky alone, Nigel mentally clapped his hands. Great, maybe now he could get somewhere.

All night the tall man had watched Starsky eyeing up the female talent. The women did nothing to peek Nigel's interest, but they did open up a world of possibilities and finally Nigel's eye fell on a tall, slim beauty by the door. He watched her sizing up the men. He grinned to himself as he saw her trying to score off a couple of them with no luck and finally he wandered around the side of the dance floor and approached her. The woman smiled at him.

'Want a good time?' she asked.

'You're not my type darling, but I'd like to give you the opportunity to make a quick $500.'

The woman focused all her attention on the tall man. What Nigel was offering would keep her in dope for almost a month. She draped her arm over Nigel's shoulder.

'I'm all ears' she murmured into his ear.


	5. Chapter 5

Starsky sat at the bar drinking his beer and watching the dancers. The evening had been long but he'd enjoyed the company. Even though Hutch had only been winged by Lake's henchman's bullet Starsky had still felt a lurch in his stomach at the blond being injured. Thankfully it was only Hutch's forearm and his pride that had been hurt, but in their line of business, it could so easily have been something far more serious. Despite himself, Starsky yawned. It had been a tough assignment – days and days of boredom followed by half an hour of sheer adrenaline and it was taking its toll.

_You're getting too old for this Davey boy. Find yourself a nice little woman and settle down. Buy a nice little ranch somewhere, raise chickens and cattle and rock on the porch into the evening. Yeah, right!_

The brunet snickered to himself and was about to push himself up from the bar and make his way home when a hand reached out and touched his shoulder. He whirled and was about to snap a retort when the words died on his lips. His eyes met a set of blue eyes almost as startling as his own and he took a small step back.

'Buy a girl a drink?' the woman asked in a sultry husky voice.

'Um…..you've got the wrong guy honey. I've got a little lady already.'

The woman looked over his shoulder. 'I don't see her.'

'Well no, she's at home.'

The woman winked. 'Then what she doesn't know won't hurt her. I'm only asking for a drink, not marriage…..although…..'

Starsky smiled. 'Are you always this forward?'

'No, usually I'm real direct.'

'Just a drink?'

The woman sat down on the vacant seat by his side. 'Just one.'

Starsky sat down also. 'I make it a rule never to drink with a woman whose name I don't know.'

'Maxine……and you're…..?'

'Dave. So, Maxine, what's your poison?'

A shadow passed across Maxine's face. 'Poison? What's that supposed to mean?'

'Nuthin. Just a figure of speech. What d'ya want to drink?'

'Vodka over ice.'

Starsky tapped on the bartop to get Huggy's attention. 'Vodka over ice and another beer' he said with a wink.

Huggy winked back and was about to turn away when Maxine, now cuddled into Starsky's side said 'Make that a vodka and a bourbon. Hold the beer.'

Huggy nodded and turned away to busy himself with the drinks. 'Why bourbon?' Starsky asked.

'Dunno, other than I feel the need for a little celebration.'

'Why?'

The woman smiled up at the brunet. 'Coz I've been eyeing you up all night and now I finally have you in my grasp.'

Starsky gave a small hiccough of surprise. 'Hey listen lady. While I love the direct approach, I aint God's gift to woman ya know. You've got me all wrong. I'm just an average type of guy……with a girl waitin' for me at home.'

Maxine looked around in an exaggerated kind if way. 'If she was a real girl, she wouldn't leave a handsome hunk like you alone in a bar like this where any woman can get at him.' As though to emphasise the point, she reached up and stated to play her fingers through Starsky's curls, circling her hand slowly across the back of his neck. Starsky shivered involuntarily, the hand at his neck sending small electric shocks down his spine.

'I um…..I'm just payin' a visit to the um…..little boy's room' the brunet stammered, disengaging himself from Maxine's grasp. Hastily he disengaged himself from the woman's embrace and headed out to the bathrooms leaving Maxine looking hungrily after him. She watched the cop turn the corner down the passage at the back of the bar, reached into her cleavage and took out a small wrap of paper. Carefully she tore open the small package and emptied the white powder into the bourbon Huggy had placed in front of her. She swirled the amber fluid around the glass a few times until the powder was fully dissolved and undetectable and then carefully placed the glass back on the bar. A moment later, Starsky reappeared and took his place on the seat next to her.

Ordinarily he would have been flattered at the woman's advances to him. Ordinarily he might even have encouraged her to continue, in the hope that he may see her again. But this wasn't "ordinarily". He and Nadia were good together. Nadia was smart, funny, loving and was willing to allow him the freedom to do his job, retain his own friends and then spend quality time with her. She was, in effect, his perfect woman and he didn't want to spoil a good thing. On the other hand, he was still a red blooded male and one drink wouldn't hurt anyone……would it?

'What took you so long?' Maxine asked as she pushed the bourbon towards the brunet.

'Had to um……wash my hands' Starsky grinned. He took the glass and was about to take a drink when he saw someone he knew across the bar. Placing the dink back down, he was about to make his apologies to Maxine when she caught his arm.

'Are you leaving me? I'd hate for you to leave me before we've had chance to get to know each other.' Once again she pushed the drink towards Starsky and this time he took it and downed the fierce liquid in one. Maxine smiled.

'See? That's better, isn't it?'

'Better'n what honey?'

'Better than going over there to talk to that guy. Now you can stay with me and we can……are you alright?'

Starsky wiped his hand over his brow. Somehow the room felt really hot, far hotter than it should have done as though someone had turned off the air conditioning. As he looked around, the colours in the room seemed a little brighter than normal and wasn't the volume of the music louder too?

'Dunno……feel a bit……'

'Are you hot?' Maxine asked, genuinely worried.

'Hot? Yeah. Maybe I'm comin' down with sumthin. I could use some air.' Starsky lurched off the barstool. His legs felt as though they didn't quite belong to him and his head felt woolly and unfocused. At the same time, he could feel sweat running down his spine and yet even with all those worrying symptoms he felt no anxiety. Instead there was a kind of euphoria. He felt on top of the world, although overheated and his heart raced. Starsky wobbled to the back door of the bar, holding the wall for support. He stared down a long narrow tunnel to the handle and pulled open the door, staggered out into the cool evening and stood with his back resting against the wall of the building, head back and eyes closed.

He breathed loud and fast, gulping in air as though it were going out of fashion. Beside him Maxine watched in awe. She had no idea what drug she'd given him, but by the effects she was witnessing, and by the alarming bulge in the front of the brunt's pants, she was fairly certain it was some kind of upper, maybe even some cocaine based drug.

'Are you ok honey?' she asked, coming closer to the brunet.

In answer, Starsky stared at her with hungry eyes. He reached out and pulled her to him savagely kissing her and almost crushing her lips against his. She pulled away, her eyes shining. This was something she understood. She saw need in the deep, soulful indigo eyes and answered it with a small, knowing smile. Pulling the man into the shadows further down the dark alley way she pushed him back against the wall and dropped to her knees in front of him.

As Starsky moaned incoherently, Maxine expertly undid the buckle of his belt, the button and finally the zipper on the oh so tight blue jeans. She reached inside the butter soft denim and found what she'd been looking for. It sprang to attention beneath her hands and she licked her lips appreciatively.

'What're ya doin'?' the brunet asked thickly. In his heart of hearts he knew this was wrong and he was two timing Nadia, but something was happening to his body and he felt a need like nothing he'd ever felt before. The universe started and ended with the centre of his body and Maxine's hands felt deliciously cool and sensual on his groin.

'Sssh' Maxine whispered as she took her first taste of the man. She licked delicately at the tip of his cock, surprised at the small bead of essence already seeping from its tip. Beneath her lips, the rod of flesh grew bigger and harder and above her, Starsky groaned again, his legs shaking and his hands starting to card through her hair.

This had never been part of the plan. The strange man's instructions to her had been clear – slip the drug into the drink and get the curly haired brunet outside, but this was her line of business and besides, the men she usually serviced were old, wrinkled and depressingly ugly. As well as the $500 why shouldn't a girl take a little time to enjoy herself, especially with such a handsome hunk who was so obviously in need of her professional help?

Feeling the brunet's need growing quickly, Maxine took a deep breath and sucked the whole magnificent length into her mouth, the tip touching the back of her throat. He felt enormous and she had no room to breath past the gag of flesh and yet Starsky's strangled moan above her told her that this was just what the man needed.

Starsky felt himself slip into the moist warm cavern and suddenly the world disappeared to be replaced by Planet Penis. The universe centred on the centre of his body and the Big Bang theory suddenly took on a whole new meaning. As he felt himself fill the girl's mouth pure instinct took over and Starsky grabbed a hold of the woman's head, thrusting himself deeper into her mouth. Finding her had insufficient leverage, he managed to turn so that it was Maxine with her back to the wall and he was above her, sandwiching her between rough masonry and his body as he continued to thrust into her, his whole body shaking with the need for release.

Maxine's eyes were closed in concentration. In the few short minutes she'd been with this man she found herself drawn to him, not only because he was the most beautiful man she'd ever slapped eyes on, but also because he had a dangerous and yet innocent air about him. It was difficult to define and yet it was pure magnetism. She set to her task with vigour, determined to make this an encounter Dave would remember and as she continued to lick and suck she felt him grow from merely hard to the consistency of granite. Feeling the moment of release approaching Maxine smiled to herself.

Starsky felt the fire in his groin grow. Whatever was happening to him seemed good. The euphoria blossomed in his chest, sending warm messages down his body. So Nadia was at home – so what? Surely if she loved him she wouldn't mind him having a little enjoyment and the way he felt right now, he'd still be ready to take his girl when he got home. He braced his hands against the wall above Maxine's head and as the centre of his body started to throb, he threw his head back and let out a wracking groan…….which was cut off suddenly and violently. For an instant there was a pain like the world had just fallen on his head and then Starsky felt the alleyway dim into grey before blackness overtook him and his body fell heavily to the ground.

Maxine had been absorbed in her task and had not seen the tall man from the bar approaching quietly. She hadn't seen him stop and watch for a moment his hands balled into fists as he heard Starsky moaning for the girl to continue. Neither had she heard the man cry out as though in pain and come running up behind the two of them.

Nigel saw the need on Starsky's face. He could almost smell it on the air in the alleyway and with a cry of frustration he felt the hard brown glass bottle in his hand. He ran at the couple and before Starsky had had time to register what was happening, he'd brought the bottle down on the back of the cop's head, jumping back as the curly haired man's body dropped to the ground like a stone. He stared at it for a moment as though wondering what he'd done and Maxine looked up in alarm.

Quickly collecting his wits, Nigel reached into his back pocket, pulled out his billfold and peeled off a quantity of notes. He counted them quickly and thrust the $500 at Maxine who had managed to get to her feet.

'You didn't see anything and you weren't here' Nigel grunted.

Maxine took the money and pushed the notes down her ample cleavage. There was a moment of indecision in her eyes as she looked down at the handsome but unconscious man. He was cute and yet….. She took one final look at the body of the cop on the ground. Pity…..they could have had a good time together, but business was business and $500 would buy her a lot of dope.

'Who the hell are you?' she grinned as she walked slowly back up the alley to the road at the top, turned the corner and walked out of Nigel's life.


	6. Chapter 6

Nigel checked out the alleyway swiftly. Part one of his plan had gone like clockwork and now he had the object of his anger in his grasp. In celebration, he kicked out at the body at his feet hearing the satisfying thud as his shoe connected with Starsky's side. The brunet's body swayed on the ground, but the cop was out for the count and felt nothing of the vicious blow.

Quickly Nigel bent down and was about to get a hold of Starsky around his waist to drag him away when he felt something hard beneath the cop's right arm. The tall man stopped, dropped the body and felt under Starsky's jacket giving a yelp of surprise as he brought out the dark, forbidding chunk of metal. The Smith and Wesson gleamed dully in the light from the moon and Nigel held it as though it might bite him. He'd spent his life fighting with his hands and feet – Karate was his preferred method of self defence and so he'd had little use for guns and had never owned one. On the other hand, this might just come in handy in his plans and greedily he slipped the weapon into his jacket pocket.

A thought occurred to the yoga teacher. If Starsky had his gun with him….. Patting the inert form down, Nigel's hands found something else hard and unmistakable in the back pocket of the brunet's jean. The material was tight, stretched taut across the cop's hips and it was difficult to get his hand into the pocket. Nigel fought with the handcuffs and the denim material, his left hand braced on the front of Starsky's jeans as his right hand pulled the silver cuffs free.

As Nigel opened the silver bracelets with one hand, his other registered the heat and the bulge in the front of Starsky's pants. While he was unconscious, his erection still pushed fiercely and proudly against the material of his jeans and Nigel realised that Starsky was almost as big a man as the love of his life – Ken.

The tall man fought down the urge to unzip the pants and take a look – to take that rod of flesh from its prison and stroke it, teasing it into life. There would be time for that later. Right now, he needed to get the body out of sight and back to his gym before anyone saw them and raised the alarm.

Checking once again that they hadn't been seen, Nigel struggled to get Starsky's hands behind his back. The cop was beginning to come around from the blow to the head by now and as Nigel snapped the cuffs into position around his wrists, Starsky let out a low, guttural groan. Swiftly, Nigel managed to get the cop to his feet. He slung the limp body over his shoulder much as a firefighter would do and staggered to his car, parked way down the other end of the alley. Nigel opened the back door to the vehicle and was about to sling Starsky into the back when again the cop groaned.

'Max….what're ya…..' the words were slurred and husky and accompanied by a hiss of pain and Nigel made his decision. He had no doubt that even drugged and hurt and with his arms pinned safely behind his back, Starsky could still make plenty of trouble if he was to wake up a little more. The back seat of the car wasn't secure enough and so Nigel staggered around to the trunk, lifted the lid and dumped Starsky's body into the confined space. The brunet's head connected with the metal of the car with a resounding thud. The blow was nothing like the one Nigel had given him when he hit him with the bottle, but with the drug in his system and his head already feeling as though it would explode, the pain was enough to send the brunet back into oblivion. As the light went out once again behind the brunet's eyes, Nigel reached into his pocket and pulled out a small square of paper. It was white and maybe a half a centimetre across. The tall man took a hold of Starsky's head, turning it until he could see clearly. He managed to pry open the cop's mouth enough to place the square of paper on Starsky's tongue. The paper dissolved almost instantaneously as Nigel watched and he smiled to himself. A second dose of Acid in two hours would be enough to send the cop to La La Land and beyond and even without a blindfold Starsky would be so spaced out he'd never remember truly what was happening to him. Checking one final time that he hadn't been seen, the yoga teacher closed the lid down, looked over his shoulder one last time and got into the drivers seat of his car. Part two of his plan was also completed and so far it had been as easy as falling of a bike. With the cop now safely in his custody and with the LSD working on his system, Nigel grinned to himself as he thought of the retribution he would heap upon both Ken and his disrespectful partner.

O+O+O+O+O+O+O+O+O+O+O+O+O+O+O+O+O+O+O+O+O+O+O+O+O+O

Hutch's arm ached unmercifully. He'd been shot before – it was a hazard of working the toughest area of the town and he knew he was in for at least 48 hours of pain before the wound settled down to a mere inconvenience. The sling supporting his forearm felt like a straightjacket holding his limb to his chest and the knot of the linen triangle bit into the back of his neck. Wiggling his fingers sent electric shocks up his arm and as for anything more strenuous – forget it!

The blond had been determined to enjoy the evening. This last job had been a tough one to crack. Zeb Lake was one of the biggest dealers operating in Bay City and bringing down his empire would mean a lot of smaller fish would also go out of business by natural progression. All in all, he and Starsky and the rest of the guys had a lot to celebrate after three months of planning and watching. At least this time neither he nor his partner had had to go in undercover. Snickering to himself, Hutch muttered under his breath – you're getting' too old for this Hutchy boy.

Four years ago, Bellamy had tried to take out the two men. He'd succeeded in injecting the brunet with a cocktail of drugs that would see him dead in 24 hours. By the time Hutch had gotten to him, one of those precious hours had already elapsed. Thankfully after a nail biting day, Hutch had found the drug and delivered it to the medics who'd created an antidote. Starsky was weak for a few days and took a month to recover fully, but recover he did.

Three years ago, a flake named Simon Marcus had kidnapped his partner and held him hostage in the old city zoo. Marcus had drugged and tortured the curly haired cop and was about to use him as a human sacrifice when the blond cavalry had literally come over the hill. It had been close, but they remained together despite the nightmares they both suffered for months afterwards.

A few months later, Hutch contracted a flu-like plague and was hours from death when Starsky found the only man in the world with enough antigens in his blood to save his partner and two years ago James Gunther had instructed two hit men to kill both him and Starsky.

That was the real doozy. Five bullets ploughed through Starsky's body hitting virtually every major organ and leaving the brunet on life support for a week. Defying every set of odds thrown at him, Starsky survived. It had taken eleven months of intense physiotherapy and a whole lot of cajoling on Hutch's part to get Starsky back on the streets, but he'd made it.

At the time neither man thought twice about a career change. Despite the severe injuries he suffered Starsky was never in any doubt that he would return to the streets. Hutch had had doubts which he kept to himself, especially in the early days when the brunet could walk no more than a few steps and his arms were so painful he couldn't raise his own spoon to his lips. The doctors had had doubts when the central bullet close to the cop's heart had failed to heal properly from the first set of surgeries and yet Starsky proved them all wrong.

Both he and Hutch were delighted when finally they hit the streets again, this time in a new Ford. Same power, same driver and Starsky had even chosen red, although this was more of a maroon, but with a more subtle white stripe down each side. As their first job came to an end, however, with the inevitable face off against their prey, guns drawn and sweat beading on their brows, Hutch started to have serious thoughts about whether he could continue. He never voiced them, but they were there at the back of his mind. It wasn't that he was fearful for himself as much as fearful that this time, if there was a shootout, Starsky may not survive. It confused the hell out of the blond. Was it that he might lose a partner? A friend? Or something more? For so many years, he and Starsky had spent virtually all their time together. They were a part of each others lives as much as eating and breathing were. It was the same with a lot of the cops. Your partner was your lifeline and your confident. And yet, there was something more – something indefinable but so strong that each and every time they went into a job Hutch feared for Starsky to the extent where he was beginning to have nightmares that something else would happen to the brunet.

At least this time it was Hutch who'd been injured – it hurt, but it was his hurt, not his partners and while Starsky was ok, he could cope with the pain.

He and Cassy arrived back at Venice Place and Hutch roused himself from his dark thoughts. _It's just the pain Blondie. Shudup and stop bein' so maudlin huh?_ He hissed as he reached for the door handle and eased himself out of the latest in his long line of battered brown beaters. The day had really taken its toll on him and he ached from head to foot, more from tension than his injury. Slowly he walked behind his woman up the steps and through his front door.

'Can I get you anything? A power shake? An aspirin?' Cassy dropped her handbag on the floor and walked into the kitchen.

'There's some Tramadol the doc gave me on the worktop. Two of those and a glass of water's fine honey' Hutch called. He looked at the sofa for a moment and decided that of he got down onto it, he'd probably not get up until the morning. Instead, Hutch walked into the bathroom, had a quick shower while trying to keep his bandage dry and then padded naked into his bedroom.

Cassy was already in bed when he got there, her long blond hair cascading over her shoulders as she smiled up at him. Silently she handed him the two capsules and a glass of water. 'I figured you'd be exhausted' she said softly. 'C'mon, let me take your mind off of the pain huh?' Cassy patted the mattress by her side and shuffled over a little to give Hutch more room.

With a smile, the blond took the two pills, washed them down with the drink and got stiffly into the bed. He lay down and Cassy propped herself up on her elbow and gently ran her fingers through Hutch's flaxen bangs. He closed his eyes cherishing the touch. Her hands on his body felt so good and yet exhaustion, pain and the drugs he'd just taken left him boneless and unwilling to move.

'M'sorry Hon…..too….'

'Sssh, the woman whispered into his ear. Lie back and let me do this for you.' Very slowly her hands worked across his shoulders, stroking and caressing his golden tanned body. They wandered over the pectorals, the flat plain of his stomach and lower until they reached what they'd been searching for.

'Mmmm…..s'good' Hutch murmured sleepily. 'More?'

Cassy adjusted her position. She kissed down the line of Hutch's chest dotting small spots of delight across his body. Finally her lips closed around his cock and Hutch let out a sigh of delight as his hips moved of their own accord.

'Feels soooo good' he whispered sleepily and would have caressed her hair if the telephone had not rung at that precise moment, jarring him from his reverie.

'Fuck!' he snapped, his eyes opening quickly. For a moment he stared at the telephone malevolently.

'No, that's for later' Cassy grinned. 'Don't answer it.'

The phone rang again and Hutch so wanted to leave it, but a vision – a memory - of his partner half out of bed, head pillowed on his arm and those two whispered words "Utch……help" rang in his ears. It galvanised him into action and with a sigh he picked up the phone.

'This had better be good' Hutch snapped.

'Good evening Ken.' The voice sounded familiar and the blond searched his memory.

'Who is this?'

'You know me Ken. Have you been practising your meditation recently?'

The voice crystallised in his memory - Nigel, the yoga teacher. What the hell did he want?'

'Weird time to ring to ask me about my training programme' the blond said warily.

'I need more than that Ken I want to do more than talk. I need you to come to the gym.'

'Nigel I told you. What Starsky did was a joke. I'm not like that. I'm sorry' Hutch was about to put the phone down.'

'I know that. It was cruel, but I know you're straight. I also know you should come down here now Ken.'

Alarm bells started to ring in Hutch's head. 'Why?' he asked carefully.

'I have a friend of yours here. He's dying to meet you again. In fact, he'll die if you don't come along or indeed if you tell anyone where you're going.' Nigel's clipped Swedish accent gave emphasis to the words.

Hutch's senses were immediately on the alert. 'Friend? What friend?' he asked although he already knew the answer.

'One with silver rings on his pinkie and an amazing array of scars on his body. Such a handsome body Ken. Have you tried him yet? I have. He's……well let's just say at the moment he's very accommodating. Be here within the hour or he'll have one more hole in his body hmm? Remember – no more than one hour.'

The telephone went dead leaving Hutch staring at it and Cassy staring at her man.

'Hutch? Honey? What is it? What's the matter?'

Hutch turned, his face white as the sheets on the bed. 'I um…..it's work. Something's come up and I have to go.'

'Right now? Something else was coming up all on its own' Cassy said, playfully.

The double entendre was lost on the blond. 'Uh huh, right now. I don't know how long I'll be gone, I just need to make one phone call.' Hutch struggled into his jeans and tee shirt. He grabbed his jacket from behind the bedroom door, kissed Cassy perfunctorily on her lips and left. The woman smiled after him. If she was going to be a cop's wife, this was something she'd have to get used to.

Hutch closed his bedroom door behind him and grabbed the phone, jabbing at the buttons on the set viciously as he punched in Starsky's number. The phone connected and Hutch tapped his fingers on the receiver as the ring tone sounded. As each tone passed, Hutch's heartbeat rose. He'd half hoped that Nigel was using a scare tactic to get back at him – and he had to admit he deserved that, but now, with every passing ring, the blond realised this was no scaremongering. Starsky was not home despite it being four hours since he'd left his partner at the Pits. Shouldering into his holster and putting an extra clip into his back pocket, Hutch grabbed his car keys, closed the door behind him and bounded down the steps to his car three at a time.


	7. Chapter 7

**Ok, this is the beginning of the warnings for those of a sensitive nature. This chapter and chapter 8 may be best avoided**

Nigel had managed to get Starsky out of the trunk of his car. It hadn't been easy. Although the brunet was semi awake, his limbs and body were uncoordinated and the curly haired man was most definitely in a world of his own. Unbalanced with his hands cuffed behind his back, Starsky had to be semi carried up the stairs and into the darkened gym leaving Nigel – fit as he was – breathless. He dropped the brunet onto the floor and Starsky landed with a thud, his bloodied head hitting the polished wooden floor with a crack. He seemed not to feel it however and lay where he'd dropped, on his side with his eyes staring ahead of him.

Starsky had no idea where he was or who was with him. His last coherent thought was of Maxine and what she was doing to his body. He had an overwhelming urge to thrust the centre of his body into some hot, wet cavern, in fact at that moment, the centre of Starsky's universe seemed to be centred on his crotch. His dick twitched with a life of its own and throbbed with a need he'd never felt before.

At the same time, the world had disappeared into a rainbow of colours. Although he could still make out shapes and bodies, they had no substance. He seemed to be moving through a landscape of green flowers, purple people with huge heads and tiny bodies and animals the like of which he'd never seen. They seemed to float around him although they weren't flying. The animals and people had no legs…..or arms……or wings and yet they were near him, touching him, crowding him out.

At the same time, sounds became distorted too. His ears seemed hypersensitive. The universe became a mass of swirling multicoloured atoms, all swirling ferociously around a central point in an orbit reminiscent of Escher's three-looped moebius strip. He was but one atom among those and since all atoms are indistinguishable, it didn't matter which one. He was any of them, all of them, swirling in this cosmic orbit. Starsky panicked. Who was he? Which of the swirling motes was his body? Would he over find himself again? In desperation and fear, the brunet tried to look around him.

The plain white walls of the gym became covered with incredible, complex patterns in the brightest colours he'd ever seen. He could hear the colours singing to him, and mist rose from the floor tiles to trap him in thick slime. Sickened the brunet closed his eyes again and immediately he was looking at his own face in a mirror. In the mirror, he saw his face morph back and forth into that of a snake, its forked tongue darting in and out of a mouth dripping fire and venom. Fear gripped Starsky's heart and without him truly knowing, a tear dripped onto the polished floor where is turned into a bug and scurried towards him. He cried out incoherently and tried to back away, but his limbs had turned to tentacles and would not support him.

Nigel watched the man on the ground with little sympathy. He'd been told the silver fluff on the slip of paper was about 80 percent pure. Never having taken the stuff himself, the yoga teacher had no idea what the effects would be, other than they would incapacitate his victim and give him a chance to get even. He wasn't sure about the doses either and now, as he watched Starsky twitch and cry out, he wondered if maybe he hadn't gone a little too far. Never mind. The bastard deserved it. Nigel had had fun poked at him all his life. Bitch…..faggot…..bög….they were all names he'd heard both in his native Sweden and also when he got to America. Now he'd finally decided on retribution, especially when the beautiful golden haired blond in his class had refused his advances and he and this piece of shit had poked fun at him……for the last time.

Nigel knelt down by Starsky's side on the ground and examined the man's face intently. He was handsome in a rugged sort of way – not like Ken's clear skin and golden tan but handsome nonetheless. Starsky had more of an olive cast to his complexion and it gave him a kind of Italian/Mediterranean appearance. The eyes that stared wildly ahead were the most perfect indigo blue and the hair, a mop of chocolate coloured curls enhanced the exotic appearance. Being originally from Sweden, Nigel had always preferred blonds, but while he was waiting for Ken to show, he wasn't averse to a little dark delight. Besides, it would show the lousy cop what he might have been missing.

The tall blond haired man knelt by the side of Starsky's body and turned the brunet's face towards him. Starsky stared wildly around, his world a confusion of colour and sound. He had no idea where he was, how he'd gotten there or indeed who was with him. In his drug induced trip he was even unsure whether the body at his side was entirely human but as he felt hands on his chest, popping the buttons of his shirt, he felt that this was still Maxine, the girl from the Pits.

'What've ya done t'me?' he mumbled, trying to back away from the hands. If there was a reply, it was lost in the noises inside his head and the scared brunet moaned and flinched as the hands insinuated themselves into his shirt caressing his chest, and playing gently with his nipples.

'Noooo, stop' he slurred, his lips feeling thick and uncoordinated.

'Sssh' Starsky thought he heard as though from a great distance. Was this still Maxine? Had he dreamed her? Or was he going crazy? Whatever was happening, his hypersensitive skin felt the hands moving lower now, working at the buckle of his belt. As the taut denim moved over his throbbing crotch, the brunet's hips seemed to take on a life of their own.

Nigel smiled to himself as he unfastened the silver buckled belt and pulled the zip of his victim's jeans down. Starsky moaned again, although this time it was accompanied by a shake of his body and a thrust of his hips. The dealer had mentioned to Nigel that the LSD would enhance sexual feeling. Now, as he stared at the huge bulge tenting Starsky's black hipster pants, he realized the dealer wasn't kidding. The brunet was huge, his cock bursting to emerge from its confinement and Starsky's head thrashed from side to side as he started to plead almost incoherently.

'Nooo….jeez don't…..don't stop…..mmmmnnnn…..sooo…..yeah baby……yeah.'

Nigel sat back on his heels. The cop was actually pleading for him to abuse him. That was a welcome surprise, and as he was asking nicely, who was Nigel to refuse? The yoga teacher grinned to himself, his mouth watering as he gazed hungrily at the throbbing cock now pulled clear of the black fabric. It throbbed and bobbed with need, beads of moisture seeping from its tip as Starsky fought with the cuffs holding his hands behind his back. The need on the brunet's face was clear to read and Nigel had no doubt that if Starsky's hands were free he would already be working to relieve himself. The erection must be uncomfortable – painful almost and by the way the cop was writhing on the floor, the need was growing more intense by the minute.

Slowly and deliberately, Nigel bent down and ran the tip of his tongue across the very tip of the cock, tasting Starsky's need. The effect was instantaneous and the brunet bucked his hips hard, bumping himself against Nigel's lips. In answer, the blond man opened his mouth.

The cop felt his body enveloped in warmth and moisture, a tongue working delicately against his tip. He'd never felt anything so erotic in his whole life. The centre of the universe was the centre of his body, heat and energy emanating from him in dizzying waves. As the tongue worked harder and the mouth locked around him increased its suction Starsky felt as though the top of his head would blow off. He thrust harder and harder up into the warm, wet cavern searching to go deeper and deeper until he could bury his complete length inside. The excitement went way past anything he'd ever experienced and whilst he wished he could last for ever, at the same time he needed release like he'd never needed it before.

Starsky felt a familiar tightness in his balls as they contracted and drew up against his body. He was a red hot rod of molten lava ready to erupt and as he got to the point of no return, he threw his head back, arching his back so that he could dive that extra inch inside the mouth encircling him and yelled out into the room, an animal, guttural sound that ended in a wail of anguish.

Nigel had enjoyed himself, knowing that the cop was forbidden fruit and that Starsky would never ever have consented to allowing Nigel to do this if he wasn't drugged. As he felt the rod of flesh in his mouth change from merely hard to the consistency of hot marble, he took one last long taste and then, with only a second to spare, drew back so that Starsky's offering spilled onto the floor and the cop shuddered and moaned, his cock still thrusting at thin air.

'Enjoy that huh? Do you even realize who did that to you? No, I guess not' Nigel murmured wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. He smiled to himself, the brunet's musky essence still redolent on the air, but his body froze as he heard the door sound behind him.

With reactions born from years of martial arts training, Nigel grabbed for the gun now laid by Starsky's side and as Hutch cannoned into the room, he held the muzzle of the Smith and Wesson close to the curly head, his finger resting lightly on the trigger.

Hutch had driven at top speed down town to the near deserted gym. A "friend" could only mean Starsky and the blond was in no doubt how hurt and angry Nigel was. He'd warned Starsky that his mouth would one day get him into trouble. The curly haired man had always laughed it off. Hutch's heart lurched as he thought how true his predictions had come. He had bounded up the stairs to the first floor gym with his heartbeat sounding in his ears and at the top of the steps had stopped, regrouped and drawn his own huge Colt. Now he pushed open the door of the big wooden finished room and stopped, his breath catching in his throat.

The gym was not illuminated by any electric light and yet the neon signs from outside and the moonlight sent shafts of shadowy cold light through the dusty glass, highlighting the bound body on the floor and the tall blond man kneeling by its side.

'I wondered how long it would take you to get here' Nigel said carefully getting to his feet. 'I didn't think it would be too long. After all, you are close to him aren't you?'

'Nigel what are you doing?' Hutch asked, trying to see past the tall man to the body of his partner.

'Showing him the error of his ways.'

'Starsk…..are you ok buddy?' the blond called. He could see Starsky's body twitching and yet there was no coherent answer only a grunt and a moan. He tried again. 'Starsky. Answer me buddy. Are you ok?' Hutch took a step forwards and immediately Nigel drove the muzzle of the brunet's automatic into the side of his temple.

'One uninvited step closer and he'll be breathing with another nostril. Stop right there and put your gun on the ground.'

Hutch stopped, his hands hovering by his sides, his gun still raised and pointed at Nigel, but it was a standoff and his partner's life was in the middle of the power struggle between the two blond men. Slowly he bent and placed his Colt on the polished wooden floor.

'Good. Now kick it over to me nice and quietly.'

Again Hutch did as he was bid and Nigel grabbed the huge gun, pushing it into the back of his waistband. 'What've you done to him?' the blond asked.

'Nothing much and he enjoyed every minute. I have to tell you Ken, you have no idea what you've been missing' Nigel replied with a grin on his face. It was at that moment that Hutch realized that the front of Starsky's jeans were wide open and his crotch was open to view. Beneath the body a small, viscous pool lay glinting in the dim light, the evidence of Nigel's abuse. Hutch's anger rose another notch.

'Starsk? STARSK!' Hutch snapped louder. In answer, the body on the floor twitched again and a slurred voice sounded thick and unsure. 'S'meee.'

'Buddy, are you ok? Are ya hurt?'

'Hmmm? Nooo……s'fine. I…..keep 'em away…..colours – keep 'em….damn things…..shit!'

Despite the gun leveled at his partner's head Hutch took several more steps forwards and stopped within a couple of yards of the pair of men. Nigel still ground the muzzle of the gun into Starsky's temple but now Hutch had a clear view of the dark blood, showing black in the moonlight caked down the side of Starsky's face and the dark black bruise blossoming across the right side of his face. He also saw that the brunet's eyes were open and staring wildly around him, ducking away from some unseen threat.

'You drugged him? What did ya give him?' Hutch snarled, dropping to one knee close to his buddy.

'He deserved it. Anyhow, he seems to be enjoying the trip' Nigel said non committally.

'You've given him Acid? Shit, he's having a bad trip. Do you know how dangerous that can be?' Hutch tried to get closer to his friend, but Nigel drove the gun into the curly head so hard that even in his drugged state Starsky yelped and tried to shy away from the pain. Hutch stopped and backed up a step.

'What's this all about?' Hutch asked, trying to keep his voice as calm as possible although his throat and lips were bone dry and his heartbeat resounded in his throat.

'Don't try that with me Ken. Credit me with a little bit of sense. I might have got you wrong – I thought we could have been good together – but you know exactly what this is all about, don't you?' Nigel's voice was cool, calm, silky and low.

'Listen Nigel. What Starsky did was wrong – very wrong. He admitted that and so do I. We never meant to hurt your feelings. I'm….flattered, truly I am that you liked me but I have a girl – and so does Starsk. Let him go – let me go and we'll forget all about this huh?'

'Too late for that Ken. You know it's too late for that. Kidnapping a cop is a federal offence and what I just did to him is an offence also, although he did seem to enjoy it as you can see' Nigel nodded to the pool of semen on the floor.'

'Explain to me how this is gonna make it better then. Make me understand' Hutch pleaded.

'Do you know what its like to be gay? Do you know what its like to be different from everyone around you? I guess not' Nigel said thoughtfully. 'Ever since I was a kid I've known I wasn't like my schoolfriends. They all wanted the pretty girls in the class and I wanted Bjorn. He found out and he and a coupke of his buddies found me in the schoolyard. They beat me to a pulp and threatened to cut off my private parts. Growing up, I heard about the flower power in California. All the magazines said this was the place to come to be yourself and I saved and saved, bought a one way ticket and set off with high expectations. I expected the guys to be queuing up to meet me when I got here. I had visions of free love, men walking hand in hand and no one batting an eye. I thought I'd be accepted immediately and I thought I'd find true love. Instead, I found poverty, misery and loneliness. I managed to get this place together and then you came along. I admired you from a distance and I dared to hope you might like me.'

'I do like you – as a teacher, maybe even as a friend, but not in the way you want' Hutch tried to explain gently but Nigel held up his hand silencing the cop.

'When I realised you were straight, my heart broke but I was willing to deal with that, but when the jokes and the jibes started….. It was bad enough that he said what he said, but you didn't stop him. Instead you ended up joining in and…. I've had enough. You hear me? I've just had enough. Blodigt helvete. Mig förmiddag igenom.'

Hutch swallowed. There was such pain in Nigel's voice and for a moment the blond empathised with his partner's captor. It still didn't absolve Nigel from kidnapping and drugging Starsky though and Hutch turned his attention back to their current situation.

'Let him go Nigel. Let him go and we can go into the office and talk about this. We can work something out….we can……'

'I'm through with words Ken. I've worked it all out for myself and I have to say I'm happy with the plan I've come up with. You aren't the first guy to tell me I'm not his type. You aren't the first to say he understands, but you doesn't. None of you do. None of you can understand what its like to see someone you know you could love but then have to watch as he goes away with someone else. Well I'm going to make you understand. I'm gonna make you understand just what it's like to be me. You never know, you might even enjoy it – you seem to love him


	8. Chapter 8

**Big warnings in this chapter****. If you're of a sensitive disposition, read no further.**

Hutch's heart lurched. What was Nigel getting at? And was it what Hutch's fevered imagination now telling him? 'Of course I love him. He's my partner, we've worked together for so long he's part of my family. He's saved my life countless times and I've saved his, but it doesn't mean I'm going to _make_ love to him.'

'What a wonderful way with words you have Ken. No? Not even if it's to save his life?' Nigel asked, his eyes taking on an intense quality that Hutch found dangerous in the extreme. He'd seen it in kidnappers before and it usually meant that the end was in sight. He took a steadying breath.

'I'm asking you for the last time Nigel – stop this now and…..'

'SHUT UP!' Nigel yelled suddenly, his calm exterior now gone in a blaze of anger. 'Shut the fuck up and back off. I'm calling the shots and you're gonna do exactly as I say. Do you understand?' As if to emphasise the point, Nigel ground the muzzle of the gun against Starsky's head again sending the brunet writhing on the ground.

'Ok, ok. You made your point, just don't…..don't hurt him' Hutch said, sitting back on his heels with his hands in the air. 'I'll do what you want, just don't hurt him huh? There's no need for that.'

'I won't hurt him Ken. I'm not going to lay a finger on him. You though…..well that's a different matter.' Nigel stood up carefully, Starsky's gun now pointing at Hutch instead of the brunet. 'Take him over to the wall bars and lay him on the ground.'

The blond stared back, defiance shining in his eyes. 'And if I don't?'

'Then you'll be looking around for a new partner.' As though to emphasise the point, Nigel aimed a kick at Starsky's stomach and the curly haired cop yelped and curled into a ball, his hands still firmly locked behind his back.

Hutch closed his eyes, sick at the sight of his buddy abused and also sick at the knowledge of what was likely to come. Damn Starsky's big mouth, damn the yoga teacher and damn Hutch for having taken the lessons. With a sigh, he moved forwards and took a hold of Starsky's body. The eyes that looked up at him were hazy, the pupils dilated and dark and as he lifted the brunet's body Starsky mumbled something under his breath.

'Starsk, stay with me pal huh?' Hutch muttered as he dragged the brunet over to the side of the room. 'C'mon buddy, snap out of it.' In answer the brunet looked up and smiled lop sidedly. 'We gonna do it 'gain doll?' he slurred.

'Oh boy! Starsk….Starsky snap out of it huh?' Hutch looked back at the tall blond man. How much stuff did ya give him? He's stoned out of his head!'

'Enough' Nigel replied. 'Enough that he's going to let you do whatever I say to him.'

'And that would be?'

Nigel smiled. 'Pull the crates over here by the wall bars and then lean him across them and fasten to hands to the bars. I want him kneeling, with his back to us.'

Hutch closed his eyes, sickened. 'No. I'm not playin' your little games any more. You want to kill me, do it now, but don't bring him into this.'

'Such a noble guy aren't ya Ken? You should have thought about all this when you and he were making fun. You aren't so happy now to suffer the consequences. Enough talk, just do as I say or he'll have another scar to add to his collection.'

'You wouldn't' Hutch snarled, trying to call Nigel's bluff. In answer, the yoga teacher let off a round which ploughed into the floor, splintering the wood and sending shards skywards. One of them grazed Starsky's face leaving a bleeding wound across the already blackened bruise. Hutch fell backwards, unbalanced by the shot. He got to his knees and examined his partner, wiping away the blood trickling down the side of his face.

'That was the final warning. The next shot is through his heart. Do I make myself clear?'

'Crystal' Hutch spat. He got to his feet and walked quietly to the crates containing the weights and ropes used at the gym. Reluctantly, he dragged them over to the wall bars, pulled Starsky gently to his knees and allowed the brunet to lean across the top of the wire containers. The brunet kept up a low mumbling but didn't struggle as Hutch handled him as gently as possible. The Acid must have been powerful stuff to keep the smaller man conscious – the right side of his face was caked with dried blood and there was an inch long gash visible in his hairline. Whatever happened – if they survived this – Starsky would have one hell of a headache come the morning.

'I can't unfasten the cuffs. They're locked' Hutch said quietly, his eyes avoiding looking directly at Nigel. A moment later, the small silver key landed on the floor by his knee. Bending, Hutch picked it up and unlocked the cuff from Starsky's right wrist, rubbing gently at the red welt across the skin there. He waited a moment, hoping Nigel would somehow change his mind but seeing the gun still levelled at him and Starsky, the blond gritted his teeth, pulled Starsky's arms above his head and fastened them to the wallbars so that the brunet was forced up onto his knees, stretched on his belly over the crates. Nigel walked over and kicked the curly haired cop's knees apart.

'Wasn't so difficult, was it?' he asked. One handed, he pulled the material of Starsky's jeans down until they pooled around his knees leaving his butt bare and offered out like a sacrificial lamb on the block. Again there was little comment from the brunet other than a surprising wiggle of his naked hips and a mumbled 'shit, yeah babe' to the imaginary woman by his side. It left Hutch nauseous and his hands balled into fists at his side but there was little he could do with the gun pointing at the both of them and the intent in Nigel's eyes left no room for debate.

'You know what's coming next, don't you?' the teacher asked.

'I can't watch you do that to him' Hutch snarled. 'I won't watch.'

Nigel threw his head back and gave a hollow laugh. 'You've got it all wrong Blondie. It's me that's going to be doing the watching. I'm going to be the spectator while you fuck that pretty ass for me.'

'Never. You're one sick son-of-a-bitch. I'd never do that' Hutch yelled back, a sick cold feeling welling up in the pit of his stomach.

'Don't think you can? Here, this will make it easier.' Nigel handed Hutch a small blue pill and pointed the gun at his head. 'Take it, you'll be amazed at the results.'

Quietly Hutch stared at the tiny pill. It could be a narcotic or it could be poison for all the blond knew and right at that moment, Hutch would have given anything to take some sort of drug to blot out this nightmare. Fatalistically, the flaxen haired cop dry swallowed the pill, stalling for time. If only he'd told someone where he was going. If only a phone would ring, or maybe a passing patrol would come after hearing the gunshot. If. Such a small word and yet it held such possibilities…..and such disappointments.

Nigel had moved to the side of Starsky's tethered body now. Obscenely he ran his hand down the bared back, running his finger down one of the longer scars and finally dipped to the crack at the base of the brunet's spine. Starsky moaned, the drug still holding him in a nightmare world where the only certain thing was his need for release again. His cock twitched and a drop of fluid dripped onto the floor beneath him as he thrust his ass upwards towards the touch. Nigel giggled.

'See…..he so wants it. He wants you inside him….he's pleading for it and you're going to give it to him, aren't you Ken?'

Hutch backed up a step, feeling a growing bulge in his pants and a heat in his groin and yet still unable to contemplate violating his partner in that way.

'I'd rather die first' he managed to rasp though dry lips.

'Maybe later. In the mean time, you're probably feeling the effects of my little pill by now so it would seem a shame to waste a perfectly good hard-on. Why not get over here and give him what he wants?'

'Never.'

'Well you could always preview the alternative' Nigel said, laying down the Smith and Wesson on the floor and taking Hutch's own long barrelled Colt from the back of his jeans. He examined the gun for a moment, admiring the metal and then he spat on it, rubbing the wetness into the shiny metal and plunged it into Starsky's ass without any prelude.

The effect was instantaneous. The brunet threw back his head and screamed into the air, pulling at the cuffs around his wrists until the skin tore and blood seeped down his arms. Nigel pushed the barrel of the gun in further and stopped until the brunet's agonised twitching had abated a little. Hutch watched, open mouthed, unable to move in case Nigel should do the unthinkable and pull the trigger. Gently, the teacher withdrew the barrel of the gun a way and then pushed it back in, thrusting forwards as he started to fuck the brunet with the Colt.

Starsky's screams turned to whimpers and then, as his body became accustomed to the hard intruder to moans and gasps and the occasional twitch. He needed this – he craved it like a junkie craves his next fix. His body yearned for a touch or an invasion and as the hard metal sought out and finally found his sweet spot, the psychedelic colours inside the brunet's head exploded into a light show the likes of which he'd never seen. His whole body was on sensory overload and with ever touch of his prostate by the barrel of Hutch's Colt, the feelings intensified until Starsky was one big breathing orgasm waiting to explode into life. He moaned, writhing his hips against the violation, lost in a world of sex and colour and sound. He was no longer a man. He was a panther rutting in the jungle. He was a condor flying high above a red world filled with purple people. He was a cave filled with serpents twining their bodies in ever more complicated knots.

And then, just as he thought he would detonate and blow up into tiny fragments, the perfect, beautiful, painful, degrading massage stopped leaving him emptier and more lonely than he'd ever felt in his life. Starsky sobbed, his breath catching in his throat as he threw his head back. 'Don't stop……don't…..god help me don't stop babe' he yelled into the yellow emptiness in front of him. His body spasmed as he pulled again at the cuffs around his wrists tearing the delicate skin further so that droplets of ruby red blood fell to the floor and scurried away like bugs fallen from roses.

Nigel looked back at Hutch. 'See, he loves it…..and you'll love it too once you get in there. Last chance Blondie. Either fuck him or watch him die. Right now I don't mind which. I just wonder what a mess it would make of his body if I fired while this was buried deep inside him. How would that get explained to the cops huh? I can see the headlines now "Decorated Bay City Cop exposed as gay. Sexually perverted game goes tragically wrong." And of course, you'd be implicated too Ken. Your choice, but you have to make it now.'

Hutch ground his teeth in anger. There was no doubting the fact that he was good and ready to use the bulge in his pants for something and yet the thought of sinking his length into his partner was abhorrent to him in the extreme. What would Starsky say? How would Hutch explain? How would their partnership ever survive? As though to answer at least some of Hutch's questions, Nigel moved back towards the bound brunet again and readied the colt at the entrance to Starsky's body. The smaller man felt the presence and pushed back against it, consumed by the need burning in his body.

Nigel grinned. 'Think of it as doing him a favour huh? See? He needs this. It's still your choice – you or a gutful of lead. I'm gonna count back from three, just to give you a chance.

Three.

Hutch scrubbed his hands through his hair, sweat prickling across his nose and cheeks. The choice was stark. Violate his partner or watch as he was killed in the most violent way imaginable. Not really a choice at all, but could Hutch live with himself afterwards?

Two.

_Sweet Jesus someone come and save us. I can't do this. I can't fuck him even though I love him like a brother I can't do that to him. But what's the alternative? I'd rather rape him than watch him die. I'd….._


	9. Chapter 9

**And the final chapter for warnings!**

One.

Hutch almost leapt forwards shouldering the tall yoga teacher out of the way. Swiftly he unzipped the fly of his pants and positioned himself behind the bound man whose body was still twitching and bucking, seeking more pleasure from anywhere he could get it. Starsky was lost in his own world and now Hutch would join him in that Acid invoked hell.

Swiftly, before he had any more time to think, Hutch grasped Starsky's hips and steadied himself, his body ready and hard, poised at the brunet's already stretched entrance. The blond closed his eyes at the horror he was about to perpetrate on the man he loved more than anyone in the whole world.

_You're saving his life Kenny boy, there's nothing more in it than that. You're just doing what you have to to save his life._

Without waiting any more, Hutch took a firmer hold of the brunet's slim hips, steadied himself and then thrust himself inside the hot tight passage in one easy motion, his eyes closed against the horror. Starsky's body stilled beneath him and the brunet groaned at the huge intruder filling him up as nothing ever had before. Both men paused acclimatising themselves to the feelings and then Starsky's groan of pain turned to a moan of sheer pleasure and his hips started to push back against Hutch's groin.

'Mmmnnnn yeah' Starsky moaned, his hands scrabbling against the wall bars. 'More.'

In answer Hutch back handed the brunet across his back. Starsky's moans turned him on and yet at the same time they reminded him of what he was doing. A tear slid down his face as he slapped again at his partner's bare back.

'Shudup Starsk, just shupup will ya. For once keep your mouth shut huh?'

Hutch's hips worked faster now, his plan being to get this whole thing over with as fast as he could and deal with the consequences later. He slammed again and again into the brunet's body lost in a world of rage and horror. He took out his anger on the man beneath him, closing his ears now to the small moans and hisses as his iron hard shaft penetrated again and again, deeper then he'd ever been with a woman. It felt liberating and more erotic than he'd imagined and with Starsky's mewling beneath him for one insane second Hutch actually enjoyed the experience. That one second shook the blond to the core and filled him with self loathing.

With one final colossal thrust, the blond finally sunk into his full length inside the body beneath him and shot his load deep into Starsky's bowels, collapsing across the brunet's back as he fought for breath. Hutch sobbed into his hands a mixture of sorrow, anger and yes……lust fuelling his tears. Slowly, he sank to the floor as his legs gave way and would have crawled away from Starsky's shaking body had a hard object not caught him on the back of his head and caused the world to wink out as if someone had thrown a light switch.

Some time later, Hutch prised his eyes open and with a hiss looked around him. He half expected Nigel to be there looking down at him but instead, apart from him and Starsky, the gym seemed to be deserted, the only sounds being the muted passing of cars from the street below. Carefully the blond massaged the lump on the back of his head and managed to sit up while the world swam crazily around him. He took a deep breath and was about to check on his partner when something caught at the material of his tee shirt sleeve. Looking down, the earth seemed to fall out from below him as he picked up the full colour Polaroid picture pinned loosely to his shirt.

The evidence was there for all to see in full kodachrome colour. The picture showed him behind Starsky. The brunet's head was thrown back and his mouth was open, his face showing that he was enjoying every minute of the debasement. Behind him, it was clear what Hutch was doing and the photographic record of what he'd done brought the bile to Hutch's throat.

Fuck Nigel! Not only had he orchestrated the whole sordid ordeal, he'd photographed it as well! Shit!

Angrily Hutch stowed the photo in the pocket of his jeans. They were still wide open at the front and he zipped them up forcefully. He got to his knees and then stood, swaying slightly as a wave of nausea washed over him, not only from the blow ti his head but also from the knowledge of what he'd been forced to do.

To do to Starsky.

His best friend.

His partner.

_C'mon Hutchy. Get with the plan. Stop feeling sorry for yourself and help Starsk._

Personal pep talk over, Hutch staggered over to the brunet who remained belly down over the crates, the blood now beginning to dry on his wrists and arms where he'd pulled against the metal handcuffs. Tragically there was also a dried trickle of blood down the inside of Starsky's legs and Hutch grunted angrily.

'Starsk? Can ya hear me partner?' he asked quietly.

'Mmmnnnn noo not 'gain…..later…..s'not time' Starsky mumbled, still trapped in his Acid world. The brunet flinched away from something or someone unseen and let out a yelp that morphed into a low howl that sounded too much like fear for Hutch's comfort. Gently the blond laid his hands on Starsky's bare back.

'Hey there buddy. Can ya stay with me here? Can you try to calm down some huh?'

In answer Starsky kicked out with his leg almost knocking Hutch to the ground and let out a pitiful cry. 'Get 'em off me…..shit…..too big…..noooo……flyin' they're flyin' at me…..ruuuuuun.' The curly head sagged back down to rest between his outstretched arms. Starsky was clearly exhausted and at the limit of his strength and endurance. The double dose of Acid had given him the trip of a lifetime, but far from being the beautiful psychedelic love-ridden trip of legend, this trip was a torment for the brunet's senses, leaving him awed, scared and disorientated. Finally his mind had told him that enough was enough and had closed down to protect itself, leaving Starsky deeply asleep so that he could recover.

Thankful that his partner didn't seem to be suffering any more for the moment, Hutch ignored his own feelings for a while, stowing them down deep in a dusty corner of his mind. He would bring them out later to rerun his own horrors time and again like some action replay at a ball game, but for now he took a measure of comfort in seeing to his friend.

Hutch collected his and Starsky's guns from where they lay on the ground. He pushed his own Colt into his holster angrily, unable to look at the devise that had been used in such a savage way on his partner. He pushed Starsky's smaller Smith and Wesson onto his waistband and set to seeing to the brunet. Covering Starsky's body once again with his clothes, Hutch unlocked the cuffs from the wall bars and regarded the torn wrists with anger. Blood had congealed around the torn flesh and stained the bright white metal and the blond jammed them into is pocket without a second look.

Fortunately Starsky was still out of it as Hutch hefted his body over his shoulder and stood up with a grunt. Checking the gym for any other possessions, Hutch made his way carefully to the steps and down to his car where he laid Starsky gently on the back seat and closed the door.

Hutch's mind was in turmoil. What was he going to do? Starsky needed some medical attention and yet he seemed not to have been "present" during the ordeal. What was Hutch going to say? How could he face his partner and tell him what had happened. _Hey Starsk? How are you today? By the way did you enjoy it when I raped you last night?_ God what a mess!

The blond scrubbed his fingers through his hair, his heart beating wildly. _I can't do this. I can't tell him. I can't face the truth of what I've done – what I was forced to do. How can I explain to Starsky what happened? How can I deal with his reaction? What's this gonna do to us?_

The questions rattled around in Hutch's tired head to be sounded out by a small, calm voice of reason. _One step at a time Hutch. Take it one step at a time. Get him home and get him cleaned up. Wait till he wakes and take it from there._

Too tired to argue with that tiny voice and with no better plan in mind, the blond set the car in motion and drove mechanically back to Ridgeway through the almost deserted streets. As he got to the brunet's apartment and managed to get his partner up the steps and into his house, the clock on Starsky's wall read 3:25. Time enough to get Starsk cleaned up and into bed.

_Time enough to sit and contemplate what a spineless bastard you are Hutchinson._

With difficulty, Hutch steered Starsky through to the bedroom and managed to get the brunet out of his clothes. Starsky was semi-awake again now, although clearly not on the same planet as Hutch. As the blond sat him on the bed and eased him back onto the pillows once again he started to mumble and moan.

'No…..not 'gain. Don't wanna……tired……need t'sleep. Head hurts…..' he put his hand up to the side of his face touching the crusting of blood there.

'Just lie down Starsk. I'll take care of that. It's not too bad – you've had worse. No, don't touch it till I've cleaned it up.' Hutch got up and gathered together a bowl of water, wash cloth and Starsky's extensive first aid kit. As he walked back into the room Starsky was struggling blindly to get out of the bed again. Hutch put the water down and pushed the brunet back gently.

'Lay down….no, just lay back babe. Let me clean you up some huh?'

Starsky's eyes fluttered open but the pupils were still large and black and there was little recognition there. Obediently though he lay back on the bed, his curly head cushioned on the soft white pillow. He remained that way, laying quietly as Hutch sponged the dried blood from the side of his face revealing a cut about an inch long in the hairline over his right temple.

'Needs stitching' Hutch muttered as he rummaged through the first aid kit and came up with some paper steri strips. He managed to pull the margins of the small wound together and tape them closed, covering them with a white dressing and tape. He did the same for the wounds on Starsky's wrists, cleaning and drying them and covering them with white bandages. Next he turned his attention to the other, more bothersome wound – the wound that he'd caused by being too rough and too eager to get the whole ordeal over as quickly as possible.

Hutch was in two minds what to do. He knew that ordinarily he would have told a rape victim to get down to the hospital to be checked out and yet somehow that was inappropriate now – too many questions, both from the hospital staff and also from Starsky. Should he check out the damage? Should he confront himself with the injuries he'd inflicted on his best buddy? The blond flinched. Seeing the wounds would make the last few hours even more real and he was too tired to confront his own fears. Finally he settled for cleaning the congealed blood on Starsky's thighs before sitting back, covering the brunet with his sheets and allowing Starsky to sleep.

As Hutch tried to relax he sat back in the chair he grunted and then withdrew Starsky's small automatic from its place in the waistband of his jeans. It had dug into his spine and the metal was now warmed by his body. Hutch placed it on the bedside table and then, on reflection took out his own long barrelled Colt, shivering as he saw the dried blood on the metal.

Dark blood.

Starsky's blood.

Hutch's mind was in turmoil. Half of him wanted to gather the brunet up into his arms and kiss away the hurts whilst the other half wanted to get out of the apartment and run as far away from his partner as it was possible to get. The blond was convinced that once Starsky knew the truth about what had happened, their partnership would be no more. How could Starsky possibly trust him any more when he'd done that to the brunet? Why hadn't he fought? Why hadn't he argued with Nigel and stopped the whole sad saga? Why? There were so many questions running around in circles in his head that Hutch moaned and put his flaxen head in his hands. God he was tired, and yet he knew he could no more sleep than forget what he'd been forced to do.

That was the operative word. Forced. Hutch reminded himself that he'd had no option but to follow Nigel's sick instructions to the letter. Starsky might be damaged – he might never want to speak to Hutch again, but at least this way he was still alive. In a way, Hutch had saved his life, although it was a helluva trade off and he doubted Starsky would see it quite the way that he did.

Wearily the blond got up from the bed and padded out into the living room leaving the door open. Starsky was still moaning and turning fitfully in his sleep. Whatever trip he was having it looked to be a bad one judging by the moans and small cries that sounded too much like fear for Hutch's liking. He sighed. Hutch needed mindless activity to take his mind away from this for a while. Ordinarily he would have tried Tai Chi or meditation, but in the circumstances he wanted nothing more to do with oriental exercises – they reminded him to much of his teacher. Instead, he opened the cupboard where Starsky kept his gun cleaning kit and brought out the heavy mahogany box with the initials MS picked out in brass lettering. The box had been Starsky's Dad's and his Mom had proudly given it to her eldest son as a graduation present when he left the Police Academy.

Sitting down, Hutch expertly broke down his Magnum and laid the parts out on the kitchen table. He took out the bore brush, dipped it in a little of the cleaning fluid and started to work at the barrel. His hands worked surely and with practiced ease. He'd performed this ritual so many times that he could do it in his sleep and it allowed his mind to relax for a short time.

The whole process took a little over 15 minutes. Hutch finished off with a soft cloth and a little gun oil as he rubbed away the last vestiges of blood from the barrel of his Colt. It measured almost eight inches in length and the thoughts of it being buried inside his partner's body were almost too frightful to contemplate. Angrily, the blond reassembled the gun, closed the heavy box lid, replaced the kit in its cupboard and lay down on the sofa, his arm flung over his eyes as he tried to get some rest. Maybe a little sleep would make him feel better. _Yeah, right Hutch. Who are you trin' to kid huh?_ With a deep sigh, Hutch turned on his side, pounded the cushion into submission and closed his eyes once more. _Can't do any more…..wait till morning and take it one step at a time._

**Sorry folks – no more updates for a little over a week as I'm off on my holidays. I made sure Starsky was sleeping peacefully and Hutch is with him. They'll be fine till I get back……BBFN**


	10. Chapter 10

Starsky's dreams continued to plague him. Purple people floated by him as he stood facing a huge orange beast with a thousand legs and ten mouths. It had him cornered and one of the legs was crawling towards him. He backed up but there was a wall at his back and he could go no further. As the leg got to him and started to touch his foot, it melted away and decayed before his eyes to leave a million snakes crawling up his leg towards him. Starsky screamed, trying to beat off the snakes with his hands but they were sticky and the more he swatted them the more there seemed to be. He cried out as one of them launched itself for his throat, fastening onto his flesh with its fangs. The brunet shuddered, clutching at the reptile and trying to pull it away from him. In the distance he saw Hutch waving to him and he tried to yell to his partner, pleading with the blond to save him but as he watched, Hutch started to laugh. He heard laughter behind him and Starsky whirled, finding himself naked on a stage in front of a massive audience. He was in Madison Square Gardens and he was the main event. He tried to cover himself but the crowd laughed even harder. Starsky looked left and right but there was nowhere to hide. He bolted for the side of the stage and opened the nearest door but in his headlong flight he couldn't stop himself in time and when the door opened onto emptiness he plunged through it and felt himself starting to fall. He was plunging into a bottomless pit, his arms and legs flailing as he tried to catch a hold of something – anything and in fear and frustration Starsky let out one final scream, sure he was going to die.

The scream shook the brunet awake and he lay for a moment, his eyes open and staring into the semi darkness of his bedroom. He was covered in sweat but he couldn't bring himself to fling back the covers, scared like a small child that there were monsters in his room ready to come get him if he wasn't covered up. For a few moments, Starsky lay panting as he got himself together. He ached viciously and his body hurt all over as though he'd been beaten. Was he sick? Had he got the 'flu? He didn't feel sick, just spacey and sore. Starsky closed his eyes. _Sleep Davey boy, quit mopin'. You'll be fine in the mornin'. Go back t'sleep.'_ Obediently and following his own advice, the brunet's eyelids drooped once more and this time, as he slept he had no more dreams and his body began to heal.

It was the sun shining through his curtains and sending a shaft of bright, warm light onto his face that finally woke Starsky from his sleep. Slowly, he opened his eyes and for a moment wondered what the hell had gone on the night before. He'd had such horrific dreams that for a moment he seriously wondered if he was losing his mind. _An' now you're talkin' to yourself! Jeez Davey get a grip why doncha? _

Starsky turned over on bed and immediately discovered that not all his dreams had been figments of his imagination. He hurt like hell from head to foot and as he looked, he saw the bandages surrounding his wrists. With a low groan, he swung his legs out of the bed and sat with his feet on the floor, his hands braced at his sides as he fought to deal with what felt like a large carving knife buried deep in his ass.

The groan awoke Hutch from his light sleep and he too forced himself to sit up. With a feeling of utter dread, he walked into the bedroom just as Starsky was exploring the cut on his forehead with his fingers.

'Don't touch it Starsk.'

The voice made the brunet jump and he turned suddenly on the bed making a mad, uncoordinated grab for the bedside table as the world spun sickeningly around him. Swallowing hard to keep his stomach under control, the brunet closed his eyes and shivered. 'What the hells happened to me?' he gasped.

All thoughts of fleeing the brunet gone, Hutch darted around to the other side of the bed and caught his partner as Starsky's colour drained away and he gasped, drunkenly holding onto Hutch's arm until the dizziness passed.

'I feel like shit…..worse'n shit. And what's all this' Starsky muttered looking at the bandages around his wrists. Troubled indigo eyes lifted to look into Hutch's face. 'Will someone tell me what happened to me?'

Hutch's heart beat wildly in his chest. This was it – the moment of reckoning – the moment he'd been dreading. How could he tell Starsky what had happened? How could he come out with the fact he'd been forced to debase his best friend? How?

'Just lay back buddy, you need to rest' he said quietly as he eased Starsky back onto the pillow. The brunet gave no resistance as he fought with the waves of dizziness washing over him. They were accompanied by a sick feeling of dread as he tried to plumb the depths of his mind to discover what had happened. He came up empty.

'Why? Am I sick? Just tell me what happened huh? What day is it? How long have I been out?'

Hutch drew a chair up to the side of the bed. 'What's the last thing you remember?' he asked cautiously.

Starsky let out a breath through his nose and closed his eyes in concentration. 'We finished the job with Lake so we decided to go out to celebrate. We met up with the other guys at the Pits. Cassy was with you, Nadia had gone to stay at her sisters for a couple of days. You left and I sat at the bar talkin' to Huggy. I was gonna leave when a chick in a super tiny mini skirt came over. She was flirtin' with me and she bought me a drink. We drank, we chatted and then….then….' Starsky's eyes opened and he stared at the ceiling, wracking his brain to remember the sequence of event. '…….and then nothin'. I don't remember another thing until I woke up here stiff an' sore and with bandages everywhere. What happened Hutch? Do you know?'

Hutch had listened to Starsky's memories with a heavy heart, sure he would remember at least something of his time at the hands of Nigel. Now, however, a miracle seemed to have taken place and the brunet was blissfully unaware of what he had been forced to endure. The blond took a deep breath and without thinking about the words started to speak.

'I um….I dunno buddy. I went home with Cassy. We were in bed when I got a call. I thought it was you askin' for a lift home or somethin' and when I picked up I got a message to come see to you.' The words flowed from Hutch's tongue. No lies exactly, but there again, it wasn't the whole truth either.

'And I was here?' Starsky asked.

'You were out of your head buddy' Hutch evaded the question. 'You must've been given somethin' coz you were trippin' real bad. You were covered in blood so I got ya cleaned up and got you into bed.' Again the truth was somewhat diluted, but the truth nonetheless.

Starsky closed his eyes. The past hours were a black hole in his memory, a murky wilderness of psychedelic colours and monsters that leapt out at him. He remembered the dreams vividly and shuddered at the memories, but as to who had taken him and why……that much was a mystery. 'I don't remember a fuckin' thing' he murmured, putting a hand up to his head and feeling the white bandage there. 'They musta hit me pretty hard on the head. Maybe I got concussed and I'll start rememberin' soon huh?'

Hutch smiled reassuringly although the words chilled him. 'Yeah, you just need to rest there. Go back to sleep Starsk, you'll feel better when you wake up again.'

'I don't wanna go back to sleep. There's too many dreams when I'm asleep. I need to get up an' get ready for work.'

'What?' Hutch looked appalled. 'You can't go to work. Not after what you've been through.'

'And what exactly is that?' Starsky said sharply. 'I don't remember! Maybe someone hit me on the head and dumped me back here. Maybe they decided to….I dunno. I need answers Blondie and the only place I'm gonna get 'em is at work.'

'But you're not fit to work' Hutch protested. 'At least take a day off.'

The brunet cocked his head on one side. 'If I was so bad, you'd have had me in the hospital by now. So far as I can see, someone's cuffed me and roughed me up. It's nuthin I haven't had before. Now move out the way and let me go take a shower huh?'

Reluctantly Hutch moved his chair to allow the smaller man to get off the bed. He didn't argue – he couldn't. Too many questions might lead to the whole devastating truth. At least this way, he could pretend that he hadn't had to do what he'd had to do.

Starsky swayed drunkenly as he got out of bed but he batted Hutch's hand away almost angrily as he straightened, took a deep breath and wobbled towards the bathroom. Everything hurt. His whole body felt as though he'd been in the ring with Mohammed Ali for a week. He hadn't felt this sore since the shooting, neither had he felt so spaced out. His head felt full of cotton wool and his eyes were like sandpaper, but it was the knife-like pains arcing through the centre of his body as he walked that troubled the brunet most of all. The wounds on his wrists and head seemed fairly superficial, but as Starsky got to the bathroom and bent to turn on the faucet to run his shower, he felt something warm and wet on the inside of his leg and looking down saw a thin trickle of blood.

Swallowing hard, Starsky realised it could only mean one thing. The pains made sense now – sickening sense and he held onto the side of the sink to keep from throwing up right there and then. Slowly he opened the bathroom door.

'Um, Hutch? Can you get in here? There's sumthin I need you to check out for me' he said quietly.

Numbly, the blond walked through from the bedroom into the bathroom. This was it – the moment of truth and Hutch felt weak and sick. 'What?' he asked, already knowing the answer.

Starsky's face told it all, the deep indigo eyes troubled and a little scared. 'I um…..well my head aint the only things that's sore. I um….I bent down to get the shower and um……Well I'm bleedin' and I need you to check it out. I think I know what those bastards did to me.' Carefully, Starsky turned and leaned over the sink as Hutch braced himself to see the damage he'd wrote the previous night. The sight of Starsky, naked and vulnerable brought back such clear memories that the blond wanted to turn tail and run and not stop until he was exhausted. Instead, he knelt down and gently examined the wounds. The brunet was torn for a half an inch top and bottom of his opening, the skin ragged and bloody. Blood continued to seep from the wounds and Hutch almost lost it there and then. There was silence in the small bathroom until the blond had gathered himself together enough to trust his own voice.

'It's a mess' he said softly. 'God Starsk, I'm sorry…..I'm so damned sorry.'

Starsky stood slowly and stiffly and wrapped a towel around his hips. 'Why are you sorry? Anyone would think you'd raped me.'

Hutch managed a watery grin and tried to snicker. 'Yeah, right. So, um…..what d'ya want to do? You should call this in.'

'Like hell I will! I don't want the boys in the squad room knowin' anythin' about this. This is between you and me Hutch, got that? Promise me?'

'But….. don't you want to know who did that to you?'

'I got a pretty good idea.'

The blond paled, the blood rushing from his head and leaving him faint and weak at the knees. 'You do?' he said quietly.

'Uh huh. It's that fuckin' Zeb Lake. He's hated us all along and now he's been charged he's gonna hate us all the more. It's just like that slimy son-of-a-bitch to do this. You need to watch your back Hutch or they'll take you next.'

'Zeb Lake?' Hutch muttered weakly.

'Uh huh, Lake. He told us he was gonna get even. This is his way of doin' it.'

'Well now hold on just a minute Starsk, you've nothin' to base that on. I mean….it could be any one of a dozen flakes. It doesn't have to be him.'

Starsky put his head on one side. 'Is there sumthin you're not tellin' me?'

'No! No, I just…..well it doesn't seem like somethin' Lake would do. He'd be more into shootin' first and askin' questions later.'

'He told us he'd get back at us in any way he could. This seems like a pretty good way to me. I need to get into the Metro and start workin' on it. I feel like I need to….need t….' Starsky made a mad grab for Hutch as the world took a dip to the left and hung in there, panting until the dizziness had passed.

For his own part, Hutch hung onto his partner as though his life depended on it, Starsky's almost naked body up close against him as he wrapped his arms protectively around the warm frame. So different to the last time Hutch had held onto Starsky. That time, he'd been forced to violate his partner in the most vile way imaginable. This time, he held on with love and compassion. Hutch's heart almost burst with love for the man he'd shared so much with. Insanely, he wanted to draw the brunet to him, stroking away the hurts that he himself had inflicted. Without realizing it, Hutch's left hand was drawing small soothing circles on Starsky's back round the longest of the silvery white linear scars while the right was carding through his partner's hair. Like a scorpion had just hit him with its stinger, the blond drew back his hand, embarrassed and confused by his feelings.

_Probably you don't want to see him hurt no more – he's been through so much and you've been with him every inch of the way. Face it Hutchy, it hurt you almost as much as it hurt him._

Stowing his confusing feelings deep down inside, the blond ushered Starsky out of the bathroom and back to the bed.

'And you still wanna go to work?' he snickered. 'How much of the Metro's carpet do ya wanna taste Gordo?'

Starsky swallowed hard and closed his eyes against the sickening vertigo but in the darkness behind his lids he saw the monsters from his dreams waiting for him, laying in wait until he was asleep once more. He shuddered. 'Maybe I'll have till lunchtime' he mumbled thickly.

'Maybe you'll do as you're told for once. Wait there' the blond commanded and for once received no argument. Hutch wandered off into the kitchen leaving the smaller man sitting on the edge of the bed trying hard to pierce the blackness of the past 12 hours. Starsky felt lost – adrift on an empty ocean. It scared him to think that he'd been at the mercy of someone long enough for them to have raped him like that and he couldn't remember a damned thing. Did he put up a fight? Did he yell and kick and snarl? Starsky snickered to himself and looked at the bandages Hutch had carefully applied to his wrists. _Don't think ya went quiet Davey boy…..but what the hell happened huh? Think! C'mon brain…..work._

Hutch reappeared at his side a moment later and held out a small white tablet and a glass of water. Starsky stared at it suspiciously. 'What's that?'

'A three course steak dinner. What does it look like?'

The brunet looked up, clearly not amused. 'Funny. What is it?'

'Zopiclone. It's the stuff the Doc's gave you when you were bad. There's a few left.'

'That's the one that sent me to La La land. I don't wanna take it.'

Hutch sat down by the side of his partner. 'It's either take this and sleep yourself better or take a trip down to Memorial to get checked out and do a helluva lot of explainin'. Your choice buddy.'

'When you put it like that…..' Reluctantly Starsky took the small white pill and swallowed it. He replaced the glass on the table by his bed and eased himself back under the covers with a barely stifled hiss. The sound ate at Hutch and solicitously he straightened the covers on the bed. 'Do you need anythin' else?'

Starsky shook his head. 'M'fine….just sleepy. Do me a favour Hutch? Go downtown and pull the files on Lake. I'm gonna nail that bastard if it's the last thing I do.'

Hutch nodded. 'Sure thing buddy. You gonna be ok?'

The brunet turned over on his side and pulled the sheets up around his chest. 'Just go huh? Wake me up in a couple'a hours.'


	11. Chapter 11

Hutch waited in the darkened bedroom until Starsky's breathing assumed the quiet regularity of sleep. The sleeping tablet was a powerful narcotic and would probably block any dreams the brunet might have had too. This way at least Starsky would get some restful sleep and it would give Hutch time to do some digging of his own and also maybe to get his own feelings in order.

The blond checked one last time on his sleeping partner and then closed and locked the front door, got into his car and headed downtown. Sure, he would go to the Metro, but it wouldn't be Zeb Lake that Hutch was investigating. The blond had a completely different target to look into. He drove mechanically, his mind hardly taking in the familiar route and by the time he got to his destination it almost came as a surprise to him – the sort of journey that left the blond wondering did he stop at that red light? Did he really come to a halt at that intersection? Mentally shrugging, and knowing that he had arrived in one piece, Hutch parked up and scrubbed at his face with his hands.

It was about 11:00 by the time the blond pushed open the swing door to the squad room. Luckily at that time of day, the place was deserted and even Dobey was out of his office. Thankfully, Hutch walked over to his desk, picked up the phone and jabbed at the buttons purposefully. 'Records? Hi this is Hutchinson. Is there a microfiche free down there? Yeah? Ok I'm on my way down.' Hutch replaced the phone and stood quietly for a moment. He looked over at the place where Starsky usually sat, resting on the back of his chair with his feet on the seat, drinking coffee. Again the upwelling of emotion threatened to drown the blond and he rubbed at his temples tiredly. What was it all about? What did it mean? Although Hutch had always felt protective of his partner, especially during and after the Gunther incident, he'd never felt quite this way. It was as though…..as though…. Hutch refused to put his feelings into words although "coward" and "bastard" were at the forefront of his mind.

_Get a grip Hutchinson. Do your job and nail that son-of-a-bitch! _

_Yeah, but you lied to Starsky._

_Did not!_

_Did too. You lied to him._

_I avoided the truth!_

_Same thing._

_Shudup Ken._

_What are you hiding?_

_Hiding? Me? I said SHUDUP!_

Angrily, Hutch kicked out at his chair, got his foot caught in the rungs and tripped, turned around and ploughed his fist into the desk making the pot pig in the corner wobble precariously. The blond achieved nothing but skinned knuckles and he sucked on them reflectively. _It's the stress, that's all it is. You need time. You need to cool it and give yourself some space. You were forced to do that. It didn't mean anythin', it was something you were made to do at gunpoint. You're exhausted. Now get to work, get your ass in gear and dig the dirt on Nigel._

For the next few hours Hutch bent himself over the shimmering screen of the microfiche in the small, airless room off the main records office. He scanned police records from the past ten years in his own precinct, the neighboring precincts and then even as far away as central LA. Apart from a parking violation, a speeding ticket and a planning application to extend the use of the gym into a martial arts centre, Nigel was as clean as the driven snow.

The blond cursed, massaging his now aching head. If truth would out, Hutch was as traumatized by the events of the previous night as Starsky had been. How could he have done that? How could he have been forced? Was there something in it? Was he…..Oh My God! Nigel thought he was gay…..was there something in that? Is that why he was able to do it…..physically?

_He gave you a pill, moron!_

_Yeah, but still…. You did it Kenny._

_Uh huh, to save Starsky's life._

_Was that all? Did it mean anything more?_

_Sweet Jesus will you shut it!_

Hutch stood up from the table so suddenly that the chair overbalanced and the resulting clatter broke the silence of the room. A young, freshfaced officer poked his head around the corner of the door.

'Sergeant? Are you alright Sir?'

'Fine….I'm done here. Um…..thanks' the blond muttered and walked out back into the bright neon lights of the corridor. It was getting dark outside and Hutch's back muscles told him that he needed rest. He'd not slept in over 24 hours (unless he counted the time he'd been knocked out) and his body was craving a soft bed and a massage. Without going back up to the squad room to tidy away his things, Hutch made his way outside to his car. He'd parked in Starsky's usual spot right outside the entrance to the building and as he got to the car he saw an envelope wedged under the windshield wiper.

Grunting about bill posters in general, the blond took it and was about to throw it into the back of the car with all the other trash when he caught sight of his name written on the envelope. A feeling of dread clutched at him as he recognized the writing and fearfully, Hutch inserted his thumb nail under the seal and sliced along the edge. Reaching inside Hutch took out a small note wrapped around another photograph. It showed the same sort of picture as before – Hutch stood behind Starsky who was bound to the wall bars. This time, the brunet's face showed pain whilst Hutch's eyes were closed. The note was short and to the point.

**Don't dig around, Ken, you never know what you might uncover. Remember, I have all the negatives.**

The world spun crazily around the flaxen haired cop and he braced his arm against the side of his car. Bending over, Hutch coughed and deposited the remains of his last meal on the ground by the side of his car. Wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, he stood up and looked around self consciously. There was a woman across the street looking at him, but he ignored her and got into the car breathlessly, his hands shaking as he clutched the steering wheel to maintain his balance.

Nigel had followed him. The fuckin' faggot had been watching him the whole time and now…. Another spasm of fear lanced through Hutch's head. If Nigel had been watching Hutch, what about Starsky? The brunet was once more drugged and defenseless and alone in his apartment.

Slamming the mars light onto the top of his car, Hutch started the sirens wailing as he gunned the engine to the rusty car, floored the gas and shot off through the streets, arriving at Ridgeway a mere 10 minutes later. Silencing the two tone but without waiting to cancel the light, Hutch leapt from the car, bounded up the steps to Starsky's house and tested the door. It was still locked, but it meant nothing and with a hand that refused to stop shaking, Hutch managed to insert the key and pushed open the door, walking straight through to the bedroom.

Carefully, he opened the bedroom door and looked in. the brunet was still sleeping and it seemed he had not moved since Hutch had left him those hours ago. The blond looked around carefully. There was no sign of a forced entry, no disturbances in the bedroom and thankfully, no note or photograph laying on the table, or elsewhere. The relief was so great that Hutch went weak at the knees. He staggered forward and perched on the edge of the mattress by the side of his partner and without thinking he reached out and pushed back that one errant curl that always fell over Starsky's left eye. It was an action he'd done a thousand times before. It steadied him, grounded him in the here and now and marked the relationship he'd always enjoyed with the brunet, and yet now, Hutch started to wonder.

Was it just a touch? Was it merely an affirmation of their friendship? Martinez and Reagan in the squad room weren't so close, neither were Gouch and Hill. Nesbitt and Rushton came close, but Starsky and Hutch's relationship had always caused comment. They ate off each others plates, drank each others coffee, finished each others sentences……and saved each others lives. They were more than partners, more than friends and yet, despite everything that had just gone on, as he looked down at the sleeping man, Hutch could not think of them as lovers. It was wrong. It didn't describe the relationship they enjoyed. If anything they were closer than lovers if that were possible. They enjoyed an almost transcendental partnership to the extent that they could almost feel what the other felt but as for feelings of a sexual nature? Looking at the sleeping man Hutch felt reassured. He loved Starsky but not in that sense.

No, not lovers, but the feeling of discomfort refused to leave the blond. He'd done that to his partner. He'd done that most vile of things without ever trying to think of an alternative.

_C'mon Kenny, there was no alternative!_

_There's always an alternative._

_Uh huh, Like watching Nigel blow Starsky's brains out?_

_Well yeah….no….Jeez, just go home and sleep huh?_

Carefully, Hutch got up from the bed although by the boneless way Starsky was lying, it seemed that a nuclear explosion would not have woken the brunet. Almost silently, Hutch closed the door, locked it and wearily climbed back into his car. He cancelled the mars light, stowed it away and turned in the direction of home and Cassy. Maybe some TLC from his girl would help him overcome the trauma of the previous hours.


	12. Chapter 12

It was just past midnight when Hutch walked back through the door of his apartment. The room was in darkness as he threw his jacket down and hung his holster and gun up in the cupboard by the door. Carefully, the blond had a quick shower, easing the kinks out of his tight muscles and after toweling himself dry he padded naked into the bedroom.

Cassy stirred as the mattress on the opposite side of the bed dipped and as Hutch slipped into the bed, she turned over and cuddled up to him with a sigh.

'Another late night?' she asked sleepily.

'Yeah, another late night' the flaxen haired man said as he curled his arm around his woman.

'Did you catch the bad guys?'

There was an infinitesimal pause. 'No honey, sometimes it doesn't work out that way.' Hutch closed his eyes, thinking about his long hours at the records department. He'd spent all that time and yet, when he thought about it in the cold dim haze of the midnight hour he realized that even if he had dished some dirt on the yoga teacher, he wouldn't have been able to do a damned thing about it. Nigel had orchestrated the whole sordid episode and had then taken photographs. He held the negatives…..in effect, he held all the cards. Unless Hutch was going to come clean, risk his career and worst of all risk his relationship with Starsky, he would have to keep quiet, bite the bullet and submit to whatever Nigel wanted. It was a stark choice and one the blond hated and yet he could see no other way around it. Blackmail was an ugly word, but in truth, Hutch was the victim of that very crime.

Cassy snuggled into his side, her head resting on his shoulder as her hand skimmed the tanned skin across his chest. 'Are you tired sweetie?'

Hutch's flesh crawled at her touch and yet he didn't know why. 'Not too tired for you honey…..never.'

The woman sighed and redoubled her efforts, her hand moving lower so that she was caressing the silky smooth flesh at the core of Hutch's body. Normally, little Kenny would have sprung to attention at her touch, but tonight as she continued to stroke him, Hutch's only thoughts were of Starsky, the brunet's body bent and shackled by his own hand and his body acquiescing to Nigel's commands and Hutch's violation. The blond shivered and let out a low moan.

'Did I hurt you? Is it your arm again?' Cassy said, looking up into the blond's eyes.

'Huh? Oh….no. M'sorry honey.'

'You seem so far away. Are you ok?'

Hutch tried to smile. 'Yeah, I'm fine.'

'Then you're more tired than you're letting on. Am I being selfish?'

'Why do you ask? You're never selfish.'

Cassy smiled shyly. 'Coz by now you're usually jumping my bones and right now I can't even get a rise from Mr. Wiggly.'

'Mr. ….oh, um. Yeah, maybe I am more tired than I admitted. I'm sorry Cass. Maybe after a good night's sleep?'

The woman threw her arm over Hutch's broad chest. 'Sorry. I have to be up early tomorrow. I have an early flight to Tokyo and then we have a four night layover. Can you wait till I get back?'

Hutch hid his relief with a grin. 'You mean Mr. Wiggly is gonna be on bread and water – short rations?'

'He'll enjoy it all the more when I get back. Go to sleep Hutch, I'll try not to wake you when I leave.'

The blond nodded. 'Can I at least have a goodnight kiss?'

Cassy propped herself up on her elbow. 'Now that's a request I think I can accommodate' she whispered and hungrily kissed the blond. Hutch responded with as much enthusiasm as he could muster and yet there was still no spark of passion. He hoped Cassy would not notice and thankfully the woman seemed satisfied. She lay back down and closed her eyes and within five minutes was sleeping soundly.

Long after Cassy fell back to sleep, Hutch lay awake staring into the darkness. Whenever he closed his eyes, his mind went back 24 hours to the gym. It haunted him and yet what haunted him even more was that he'd lied to his partner. Starsky was injured and obviously in a great deal of pain both physically and mentally and yet when he'd asked for the truth, Hutch had been too cowardly to give it to him.

The blond flung an arm over his eyes trying to blank out his thoughts. Tomorrow he would tell Starsky everything. Tomorrow he would find a way to explain. Tomorrow he would get rid of Nigel's shadow once and for all. If it meant Starsky walked out of his life….. again Hutch shivered, this time at the thought of life without the brunet. Turning over angrily and hammering the pillow into submission, the blond closed his eyes and tried to empty his mind, but as the fingers on his bedside clock crawled around, sleep refused to come and by the time Cassy awoke and got out of bed, Hutch still hadn't slept.

As the woman started to creep around the room gathering her clothes Hutch remained still with his eyes closed. He couldn't face Cassy again so early in the morning. He loved her with a passion and yet right at that moment, the blond craved solitude so that he could think (or maybe concentrate on not thinking) and decide how best he was going to explain his actions to his best buddy. As the bedroom door softly closed, Hutch turned over in bed and lay staring into the semi-darkness, his mind working itself up into a frenzy of possibilities. The one that chilled him most was that Starsky would never forgive him.

As dawn broke, finally the exhausted blond slept fitfully to shake himself awake half an hour later in a cold sweat calling Starsky's name into the darkness.

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Across town Starsky too was starting to wake. The brunet had slept solidly for over 15 hours and now he felt rested and a lot of the pains of the previous day had dissipated although the centre of his body still felt as though he were sitting on a red hot skewer. Slowly he turned over in bed and stretched luxuriously. He felt boneless and the sleeping drug Hutch had given him had even kept the demonic visions of the LSD at bay.

Flicking the sheet back, Starsky swung his legs over the side of the bed and sat up experimentally moving his hips. The pains were no worse and maybe even a little better now and as he stood the room stayed where it should be instead of swinging drunkenly from side to side.

Walking slowly into his bathroom, the brunet turned on the shower and then unwound the bandages from around his wrists. He cringed a little at the mangled bloody wounds around his wrists although they were clean and beginning to heal well. Damn Zeb Lake! By the time Starsky had finished with him, he'd wish he'd never been born.

The curly haired cop tested the water and then stood under the shower, hissing as the hot water bit at his wounds. Yet the water felt good on his skin, washing away the sweat from the previous night and Starsky vigorously scrubbed at his hair, soaping it well and then rinsing, ignoring the bite of the lather on his wrists. With a final shake of his curls, he got out of the shower, toweled himself dry and grunted wryly at the streaks of blood staining the white towel. Some of the wounds on his wrists had reopened and needed a covering and as Starsky set to with the bandages and iodine, his mind went back 24 hours.

A lot of the time, his mind was a black and empty void. He remembered the Pits and he remembered Hutch and Cassy leaving. The brunet rubbed at his temples seeking inspiration. There was something else about the Pits, something he should remember. A conversation? A friend? A girl! That was it. Dimly he remembered a girl with a short skirt and long legs sitting down by his side. Wrinkling his brow. He concentrated hard.

'_Buy a girl a drink?' the woman asked in a sultry husky voice._

'_Um…..you've got the wrong guy honey. I've got a little lady already.'_

'_I don't see her.'_

'_Well no, she's at home.'_

'_Then what she doesn't know won't hurt her. I'm only asking for a drink, not marriage…..although…..'_

'_Are you always this forward?'_

'_No, usually I'm real direct.'_

'_Just a drink?'_

'_Just one.'_

'_I make it a rule never to drink with a woman whose name I don't know.'_

What the hell was her name? Maybe if he could find her…..maybe if he could ask her, she might be able to give him some answers.

Putting the first aid kit away, Starsky tidied the bits of lint and bandage away, tied the final knot around his right wrist with his left hand and his teeth and was about to make a cup of coffee when the front door opened.

'Maxine!'

'Well I usually go by "Hutch"' the blond said as he walked into the living room.

'No! The girl in the bar. I remember a girl in the Pits. She came over and started to talk to me after you'd gone.'

The blond managed a wry smile. 'And this is unusual because…..? Starsk, there are always girls comin' over to talk to you. You're like a bloody chick magnet, you always have been though God knows what they see in ya.'

Starsky scowled and shushed his partner. 'No, I mean she came to talk to me right before things started to get fuzzy. I'm beginnin' to remember bits about that. She came over and kinda introduced herself. She was real forward, if you know what I mean.'

'And again I can't be surprised.'

'Shut it Blondie, I'm thinkin'.'

'Hmmm, painful. You need to sit down or can you manage two things at once?' The banter quelled some of Hutch's fears. It felt good – normal and for a while he allowed himself the luxury of normality. There was time enough for confessions later.

The brunet ignored the jibe. It was how they were – easy insults that meant nothing, but he did sit down at his kitchen table, his head in his hands and his eyes closed as he wracked his memory for the answers he needed.

'We talked for a couple of minutes. She wanted a drink, she told me her name was Maxine and then she started to come on to me. I made an excuse and went to the bathroom and she was still there when I got back. We talked some more, I drank my beer and then….. Damn, and then it's all a blank.'

Hutch felt the first trickle of cold sweat running down his spine. How much was Starsky going to remember? Should he come clean and tell him now? Should he get it over with and suffer the consequences? The blond cleared his throat.

'Starsk….'

The brunet looked up and grinned wryly. 'I know, I know. Too much thinkin' aint good for me. But it's there Hutch. Somewhere in the blackness it's there. If we can find this Maxine maybe we can find out what happened. I think she must've slipped sumthin into my drink. What do you think? Do we find her and ask?'

Hutch's words died on his lips. Maybe now wasn't the time. Maybe there would be a better time, when Starsky wasn't so animated. Right now the brunet was fired up to go find this woman. That wouldn't be too bad would it? It would give Starsky something to focus on and there was no way she could link back to Hutch. Maybe Hutch should let Starsky get this initial part out of his system and then tonight, over a beer, maybe that would be a better time.

_You're a coward Hutch._

_Maybe, but I can't just blurt it out._

_You need to tell him now. The sooner you do, the sooner it's all out in the open._

_Fine – tonight over beer. I'll definitely do it then._

_Uh huh. And pigs'll fly._


	13. Chapter 13

The rest of the day passed in a blaze of anguish for the blond. Starsky was still unfit to go back to work and he himself admitted that the bandages around his wrists and his drawn appearance and occasional hisses of pain would attract unwanted questions. Hutch phoned in for the both of them, mentioning a flu bug and the need to stay indoors and keep warm. Minnie, who took the message, was full of sympathy.

'Poor boys. What is it with you two? Anyone would think you were just too damned close. Every time Starsky gets a cold, you get one too.'

'What's that supposed to mean?' Hutch had snapped down the phone, his heart racing at the woman's words.

'Nothing! Cool it Hutch. I only meant working together in a car all day you're sure to pick up on each others germs. Stay in, drink plenty and sleep.'

Hutch had relaxed marginally and and berated himself for his own stupid imagination that now had everyone branding him as a raving homosexual. 'Sorry honey – man-flu – what can I say? I'm just plain grouchy. See you in the morning.'

There had been a soft snicker down the line. 'Take care – Metro out.'

When Hutch had got back into the bedroom, Starsky once more had his head in his hands.

'Hey buddy. Are you feelin' ok?'

The brunet had looked up and snorted. 'Great. Just peachy. My memory is shot an' I got nailed in the ass by some pervert. I just wish I could remember sumthin…..anythin' but it's like they took my memories out an' threw 'em away.'

'Poetic Starsk, very poetic. But realistically, isn't it better that you don't remember? I mean would you want to remember what had happened? I know I don't……wouldn't' Hutch corrected himself quickly but the brunet seemed not to have noticed the critical slip.

'I guess I just want some retribution. Hell, you read about what goes on behind closed doors. I thought I'd got a handle on all this when we found out about Blaine. It made me sick to the stomach to begin with. I was more sorry for Nancy than for John. In a way I felt like it was divine justice or sumthin – god getting' his revenge for John havin' done sumthin like that……with another guy. It took me a while but I thought I'd got a handle on it.'

'You and John were close. It was a helluva shock for ya.'

'I know but still. Knowing that about someone you know so damned well….It's like if I found out you were into that sorta thing. It's one thing sayin' sure you have no problems with it, but if someone so close to ya tells you that they're into the whole……what do they call it? Greek thing? Well…… I dunno, maybe I'm shallow or sumthin but it'd turn my stomach.'

The blood left Hutch's head in a rush and his legs folded beneath him so that he sat down suddenly on one of the chairs in the bedroom. Starsky looked up. 'Are you ok? You keep askin' about me but I gotta say you look like shit.'

Hutch tried to smile. 'You say the nicest things. I'm fine. I guess this has got to me almost as much as it's gotten to you. I'm just tired. Haven't slept much.'

'Well there's nuthin like early mornin' LA smog to lift the spirits. While its quiet and early lets get out there and start lookin' Maybe when we've found out as much as we can about this pervert we'll both feel better huh?'

'Oh……yeah. Tell me Starsk. When you do find this……pervert. What're ya gonna do?'

The brunet cocked his head on one side. 'Got no idea, but he aint gonna want to live for a while if ya get my drift.'

As Starsky got up and walked back into his bathroom, Hutch nodded wearily. 'I already don't wanna live' he muttered and closed his eyes as though in pain.

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The rest of the day went by in a haze. Starsky was like a man possessed. He called at the Pits and questioned Huggy for a while, although all the black man could confirm was that he'd seen Starsky with a girl.

'Aint anythin' too unusual in that my man' he'd smiled. 'Now if I saw ya canoodling with a man, that would be different.'

Starsky grinned. 'Canoodling? Hug where the hell do you get your vocabulary? As for me and men, I'm strictly a lady's guy. Any guy tries to feel me up they're gonna get a broken arm and…… well, you get my drift.' The sentiment was said with such feeling that Huggy nodded emphatically and Hutch's self esteem plummeted into his boots.

Usually when Hutch was troubled he would turn to his partner as a sounding board. This was so different though. This situation wasn't something he could talk to Starsky about. Apart from the fact that Starsky was the victim in all this, and Hutch the perpetrator, the brunet had made his feelings clear at every opportunity. He wanted revenge on the guy who had done this to him and who could blame him. If Hutch could have opened up the ground and let it swallow him, he would have done so and yet….'

Next on the list of possible leads was the ample supply of hookers in the area. One by one the two men called on their usual haunts, questioning the girls carefully about a tall brunette called Maxine. Most of the girls didn't know her, but one of them, Ginger, a girl they'd grown to trust over the years mentioned that there had been a new girl in town, but that she'd said she'd suddenly come into some money and had moved out. And no, Ginger didn't know where to.

Getting back into the car Starsky slammed his fists onto the steering wheel. 'That's it then. The one lead we had and she's gone. Shit! Do we go direct to Lake? Do we confront him?'

Hutch shrugged. 'Your choice' the blond said carefully, '…but if it isn't Lake after all, he's gonna be gunnin' for ya all the more. You know what he's like and he has that big powerful law firm behind him. You need to be careful Starsk.'

The brunet sighed. 'I guess. But dammit Hutch! God, I just wish I remembered sumthin.'

'No, you don't' the blond murmured almost too softly for his partner to hear.

'Huh?'

'I was just thinkin' memory aint all it's cracked up to be. I mean if you did remember, wouldn't you be reliving the whole thing over and over again? Would you want to do that buddy? Maybe you just put this down to …..dunno…… the downside of the job?'

Starsky turned in his seat, his indigo eyes blazing. 'I can't believe you just said that! What the hell is wrong with you? We're cops. We chase the bad guys and unless you'd missed it, when someone rapes your best buddy…… your partner, in my world, he's most definitely a bad guy. The way you're talkin' it's like I was slapped in the face, not nailed in the ass by some freakin' pervert who can't keep his dick to himself.'

'Why pervert huh? What would happen if they'd got another guy in and forced him to do that to ya?' Hutch snapped.

'Like hell! What guy in their right mind would do that? How the fuck can a guy be forced? It aint biologically possible. You're talkin' crap an' if I didn't know you better I'd say you were tryin' to get me to call off this investigation.'

Wearily Hutch shook his head. 'No, that's not it. Course I want ya to….. I want you to have some answers, all I'm sayin' is maybe you should wait a couple'a days, till you're healed maybe.'

'My ass might heal, but my head won't until I have the answers and right now the only thing keepin' me goin' is trying to find 'em.

'You need rest buddy' Hutch hedged quietly, feeling sicker by the minute.

'I need to get that bastard cornered. After that I'm gonna make him wish he'd never been born.'

The blond had no answers, nothing more he could say. Any thought of trying to explain to Starsky what had gone on seemed ridiculous now after the hearing the brunet's thoughts. Whatever Hutch said, he knew it would never be enough to fully mitigate what had gone on. Starsky had called his attacker a pervert and Hutch was that pervert. That was how he labelled himself – a pervert. He'd done nothing to stop Nigel forcing him. He'd stood by and watched as the yoga teacher had used the gun – his own Colt – on Starsky in the most brutal way imaginable and then he'd fucked his own partner.

_You can't tell him Kenny. Not now._

_I can't live with this in my head._

_You'll have to. The choices are either come clean and lose everything you've ever truly valued in life or learn to live with the label he's given you. Pervert. You are the perv that did that to him. No ifs, no buts. It was you and you alone._

_There is a third choice._

_Sure there is, but are you man enough to take it?_

_If I have to, yes. Anything to make this torture stop. Anything, got it! ANYTHING._


	14. Chapter 14

The day finally came to an end and not a moment too soon for Hutch. His nerves were shot and his muscle so sore from holding himself tense that he felt like he'd been in the boxing ring all day. As they rounded the final corner to Ridgeway, Starsky shifted in the car seat.

'Wanna come in for a drink? I'm bushed.'

'You've done too much. I told you ya should have rested.'

'Sure thing Mom. Wanna drink?'

_Ok Hutch. This is it, this is your chance to go in there and sit down and tell him what went on._

Hutch's hand reached for the door handle but at the last moment, his hand withdrew.

_C'mon Kenny. Get in there. Go in, sit down and tell him. They say confession is good for the soul._

'I'm um……Cassy is expecting me. She said she wanted to go to the cinema tonight and um….'

'I thought you said she was flying to Tokyo today.'

Hutch closed his eyes in despair. 'Did I? I must've got it wrong. Not tonight. I um….'

The brunet regarded him carefully. 'You really are hurting about this aren't ya buddy?'

_Tell him. Tell him now._

'Sure I am. My best buddy was hurt. How am I meant to feel?' Hutch mumbled.'

Carefully Starsky patted his partner's knee. 'I'm ok. I'm pissed off, but I'm ok. I should've thought of you more. I should've known this would have been hard on you. I shouldn't have had ya drivin' all over the city. Sorry.'

The words, said with such care were the last straw for Hutch. With a rush that almost had him falling headlong out of the car, he opened the door, shot out and nearly ran along the sidewalk to his own car.

'See ya tomorrow' he threw over his shoulder at the shocked cop. 'I'm fine, just tired. Back to work tomorrow huh?'

Starsky watched the tall man get hurriedly into his own car, start the engine and set off in a screech of tyres. He shook his head. There were times when Starsky would never understand the man he'd come to regard as his "other half".

The brunet went inside, closing the door behind him. He leaned against the wood and closed his eyes trying to ignore his aches and pains. The day had been fruitless and a waste of time. Maybe Hutch was right. Maybe he should try to ignore what had happened and concentrate on the future. Maybe he should put it down to "one of those things" and move on and yet he knew that if this had happened to a woman, he'd have been urging her to seek police help and to go all out to catch the bastard.

This wasn't some unknown woman victim though. This had happened to him and Starsky knew that however severely he talked to himself, he could never just forgive and forget. It wasn't in his nature to let the bad guys go and although he would go back to work tomorrow and not talk about this to anyone but Hutch, it would prey on his mind until he'd found the culprit. Once he had….. he wouldn't be raping anyone again any time soon.

Levering himself away from the door, the brunet walked into his kitchen, put a spoonful of coffee into the grinder and went for a shower to wash away the days grime, sweat and fruitlessness.

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Hutch slept poorly that night. Alone in his bed, he tossed and turned, memories of Starsky surfacing regularly to haunt him. When he thought about it, Hutch could remember every detail of the night in sickening clarity. He could feel the brunet's body beneath his hands, he could still hear the moans as the drugs in Starsky's body made him enjoy the invasion and he could still see Nigel's face, watching with rapt attention.

Towards morning, the blond got up stiffly from his bed. When he had slept it had been full of nightmares and twice he'd shaken himself awake, sweating and with his flaxen bangs turned golden and plastered to his forehead. Now, he angrily pulled on his old worn tracksuit pants, slid his feet into his running shoes and headed outside. For the next hour, the blond pounded the sidewalk and the running track in the park, pushing his body to its limits. He knew he was punishing himself for what he'd done, but the pains in his shins and chest seemed somehow fitting and he pushed harder until the breath whistled in his throat and he had to bend over to suck in deep lungsful of air.

Hutch had run in a wide circle and was now close to his apartment once more. Stretching to warm down, the blond walked slowly back to his house and up the stairs to his front door. The run had swept the cobwebs from his brain and in the cool early Californian morning he felt calmer and had more clarity of thought. He opened the door flung his towel down on the floor in the living room and walked into his bathroom. Hutch stood under the shower for ten minutes, turning the water as cold as he could bear it and until his skin had turned pink and he was beginning to lose feeling in his hands.

The run had been good. For an hour, Hutch had managed not to think about his situation and how he was going to tell Starsky. He'd berated himself for being a coward all night after he'd run from the chance to talk to the brunet. It had been the perfect opportunity. The subject had arisen and yet Hutch couldn't bring himself to talk. Instead, he'd run, like a kid caught smoking behind the bike shed. Now, he vowed, he'd have to talk. This couldn't go on any more. The secret was eating at him like nothing had ever eaten at him before. Something had to be done and it had to be done soon.

As Hutch was pulling on his tee shirt and tucking it into the waistband of his jeans, there was a knock at the door and the brunet walked into the room. Thankfully it was cool enough that he could wear his shirt sleeves rolled down and hide the red wounds around his wrists. He'd taken off the white bandages that were just too conspicuous and after a reasonable nights sleep he felt refreshed and a little less uncomfortable.

'Mornin'. Where's Cassy? Is she still asleep?'

Hutch looked blank. 'Tokyo. She had a four night layover.'

Starsky twitched his eyebrows. 'I thought you said that was later. You said you needed to come home early last night to be with her.'

The blond looked away. _Liars need to have good memories son. _Hutch's Granddad's down home wisdom echoed in his ears and he cursed silently. _'_I guess I got confused' he said quietly.

As Hutch walked past the brunet Starsky shot out his hand and caught his partner. 'Hey, are you ok?'

The touch burned like acid on Hutch's skin, his flesh hypersensitive to the brunet's hand. It felt wrong as the words of concern seemed wrong. How dare Starsky feel so compassionate, especially after everything Hutch had done to him? Hutch drew back his hand as though he's been bitten and then snorted.

'I guess I'm still tired. I didn't sleep too well.'

Starsky sighed. 'It wasn't your fault you know. You gotta stop blamin' yourself for everythin' that happens to me.'

'What the hell's that supposed to mean?' Hutch snapped. The words shocked him. Had Starsky found out and if so how? And how could he be so calm about it?

'Nuthin. Easy there partner. I just mean whenever sumthin happens to me you always end up blamin' yourself. You've always done it an' its time you stopped. You had no idea what was goin' on. You were tucked up all nice and cosy with the lovely Cassy.'

_No, I was assaulting you._

The words were on the tip of Hutch's tongue and yet he couldn't bring himself to say them. Instead he smiled weakly, ashamed of his own cowardice. 'I'm sorry' he mumbled. 'Are we ready to roll?'

Starsky nodded. 'We don't need to go into town do we? I mean, we don't need to call at the Metro for anythin'? We can just call in and roll huh?'

The blond nodded. He wasn't too sure he wanted to face Dobey's questioning either just yet. Maybe tonight he'd tell Starsky. Maybe tonight he'd have plucked up enough courage. In the mean time….. 'Sure, we can call it in. What've you got planned?'

'Dunno. Lets roll first. I'm thinkin'.'

'Don't let it hurt too much buddy' Hutch quipped as he headed for the door.

The two men got into the car and while Hutch did his usual check on their weapons, ammo etc, Starsky called into the Metro and assured Minnie that both he and Hutch were now cured of their "flu" and ready to hit the streets.

'Now that you're back, Dobey wants a word' the communications officer said. 'He um….he said you weren't gonna like it. Patching through.'

Starsky grimaced. Great, just what they needed – a conversation that they weren't going to like with the guy neither of them wanted to talk to. 'Fine' he grunted and waited for the whirs and clicks on the line as Minnie worked her magic. Finally the well known gruff voice sounded over the airwaves.

'Are you two fit and healthy now, or do you need another couple of days with your girls?'

Starsky feigned upset. 'Captain, please! We were close to death! Temperatures, coughs, sneezes, bad dreams of big bad black men…..'

There was a growl down the line. 'Well so long as you're both better now, I've been meaning to tell you. Zeb Lake got bail. The Judge granted him a million dollar bail and he's in a private hospital uptown. He told the Judge he was going to be pursuing a claim against the two of you for harassment. Did you?'

Starsky's blood was beginning to boil. 'Did we what? Did we stop his little empire? Did we get shot at by his men? Did Hutch take a bullet? Yeah, if that's harassment, we did it. What's this all about Cap'n?'

Dobey sighed. 'It's about a big, wealthy man throwing his weight around. Two of his main men weren't at the scene when you took the warehouse. You might know them? Don White and Bear McLintock?'

'Bear as in "I'm nine foot thirteen and weigh in at a thousand pounds?" yeah, we know 'em.'

'Word on the street is that they know who cut off their route to a decent heroin supply and they're out to get the two of you. Be careful out there.'

Hutch and the brunet exchanged glances and Starsky grinned. 'What can I say Cap'n? What it is to be popular huh? We're all eyes. Zebra Three out.' He replaced the mic on the dash and sighed. 'I think we just found out what we're gonna be doing today.'

'Oh now, hold on partner. Do we really want to be goin' lookin' for trouble?' Hutch asked mildly.

His partner grinned back 'Does a rocking horse have a wooden dick? Let's roll.'

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For much of the morning, the two detectives cruised the streets. By noon, they were tired, a little frazzled and thirsty. It had been a fairly productive morning. A minor drug dealer on their patch had been seen entering one of the seedier motels on the east side. By the time the duo arrived they were just in time to catch him with his pants around his ankles and the hooker on her knees in front of him. Shifty Sagar jumped as Hutch kicked open the door, turned, tripped over his own clothing and lay sprawled on the floor as Starsky read him his rights and cuffed him. The flake whined about police brutality while the brunet sat on the bed and made small talk with Jeanie the hooker and as the sirens of the black and white sounded in the distance, Starsky patted her on the rump and told her to take a hike.

'But…..?' she stammered, sure she was about to be arrested too.

'Unless you want to spend a night in the cells?' the curly haired cop smiled.

'Are they all as handsome as you Starsky?'

'They're as ugly as sin honey' he grinned.

Jeanie gathered a few belongings together and paused. 'You're ok…..for a cop' she said uncertainly. 'If you ever need…..ya know? It's on the house.'

Starsky heard a stifled snort from his partner and smiled at the girl. 'I'll bear that in mind' he said. 'Now go huh?'

Once the uniforms had arrived and taken the whining Shifty Sagar away, the two detectives made their way out of the motel and back to their car.

'Hungry?' Hutch asked.

'As always.'

'Tofu and salad?'

'A dog with everythin'. Or maybe a beef burrito?'

'Does your stomach every just shrivel up and surrender?' the blond asked as he drew up alongside Joe's Dog stand.

'It knows when it's onto a good thing. Mine's with extra mustard and onions and…..shit, look.'

Hutch was halfway out of the car at the time and twisted just in time to see Bear McLintock's huge back disappearing around the corner across the road. All thoughts of lunch wiped from their heads, the blond got back into the car while Starsky slammed the mars light into place. The battered LTD lurched forwards and followed the course of the big man, Hutch throwing the big car around the corner as he expertly fed the wheel through his hands. The road ahead was empty.

'Which way?' he yelled.

'Back alley. Drop me here' Starsky yelled back, already drawing his weapon.

'Starsk that's not such a good idea……' Hutch sighed, talking to the brunet's already running back. The blond slewed the car to a halt, drew his own gun and followed his partner into the back alley.

As Hutch rounded the first corner he could see Starsky already crouched behind a trash can, his head ducked down as a bullet whistled past his curls. Hutch skidded to a halt and sheltered behind an iron escape ladder. Another shot rang out, this time from the brunet's Smith and Wesson but it went wide of the mark and Starsky flung a look over his shoulder.

'Cover me' he called and hunkering low made a run for the next piece of shelter by the side of a blue car. Hutch laid down covering fire and caught a sight of McLintock and also Wright sheltering behind a dumpster. Another shot rang out and this time there was a cry of pain and shock from the brunet. All thoughts of his own safety fled Hutch's mind and he made a run for the smaller man that his track and field teacher would have been proud of. He skidded to a halt behind Starsky, almost cannoning into the brunet's back in his haste.

Starsky had taken a look out from his hiding place and had tried to level a shot at McLintock just as the flake had aimed a bullet at him. The slug tore past the brunet's head, blazing a bloody trail past the tip of his ear and Starsky cried out in shock, putting his hand up reflexively to the side of his head. At the same time a weight slammed into his back and Hutch's breath rippled against his neck.

Time stood still and then, in a blaze of colour it reversed. Starsky had a blinding vision of being laid on his stomach, his hands outstretched and fastened above his head. For an instant Starsky relived the moment he was brutally violated. He felt the penetration, he heard himself cry out and he heard a guttural groan from behind him and at the same time, he had the sickening impression that he knew the person who had done that to him.

Shaking himself, Starsky clutched at his ear as he turned, something in his eyes alerting Hutch to the fact that it was not only the pain of his wound that was bothering the brunet.

The rain of shots stopped. It seemed that McLintock and his friend had taken the opportunity to scarper and now there was just the duo in the alleyway.

Hutch's heart plunged into his boots as he saw the look in his partner's eyes. 'Starsk? What? Are you ok?' Here let me look.' Gently Hutch took the curly haired cop's hand from his ear and dabbed at the wound with his hanky.

'I remembered sumthin' Starsky said in an almost dazed voice.

'Huh?'

'About the other night. I remember sumthin. When you came up behind me, it triggered sumthin. The guy who did this to me…..'

Hutch felt as though the world was about to end. 'Starsk we have to….'

'I know…..we have to move on. But you don't understand. I get the feelin' that whoever did this to me is someone I know.'


	15. Chapter 15

The rest of that day moved past the blond cop in a hazy blur. The two men got themselves out of the alleyway. Wright and McLintock seemed to have melted away into thin air and neither Starsky nor Hutch had much inclination to go after them again.

Starsky's head pounded, not only from the small graze to his ear, but also from the adrenaline and shock at so nearly having had his head blown off.

For Hutch, his teeth were on edge, every muscle in his body was tense and every word the brunet uttered seemed to have a double meaning.

'_I get the feeling that whoever did this to me is someone that I know'_

Had the chocolate curled cop guessed? Did he really know about Hutch's sordid secret? Was there going to be a final showdown? In a way, the blond wanted it to happen so that he could finally shake the devil from his shoulder, but while longing for mental peace, he also dreaded what Starsky would say and do. His partnership with the brave, handsome, slightly childlike cop was Hutch's life. Although Starsky sometimes got on his nerves, Hutch knew that should he not be able to share his life with the New Yorker then being a cop would mean nothing……maybe life would mean nothing too.

They visited the minor injuries unit at Memorial Hospital. Starsky had his ear cleaned and had a couple of stitches in the wound while Hutch's own stitches in the wound on his arm had torn in the flight to get to Starsky in the alley. The blond sat patiently and silently as the nurse tutted over the wound, berated the blond on not having followed their directions to keep movement to a minimum and then inserted fresh sutures and applied a fresh white dressing.

All the while he waited, Starsky prowled the small curtained cubicle, picking up various medical instruments, wise cracking with the nurse and generally getting in the way but instead of yelling at the brunet to sit down, as he once would have, Hutch seemed completely lost in a world of his own as he was tended to. By the time the nurse had told him that he was good to go, Starsky was getting a little concerned. As he helped Hutch onto his jacket he couldn't contain the questions any longer.

'Penny for 'em?' he asked as they walked down the long cream painted corridor.

'Huh?'

'Penny for your thoughts.'

Hutch roused himself. 'They aren't worth it buddy.'

'Well you've been quiet for too long an' I think I know why.'

Again Hutch's heart stopped beating and yet his legs continued to propel him forward.

Dead man walking.

'Not now Starsk.'

The brunet ploughed on regardless. 'You're mad at yourself again coz I got hurt aren't ya?'

_And then some Starsk, but it aint your ear that I'm mad about._

'Kinda.'

'Well stop that right now, you hear me? We can't go through working life with you wrappin' me up in cotton wool. You worry then I start to worry about you worryin' about me and pretty soon we're both fucked but we don't know why.'

_Never a truer word buddy! _'You're talking your usual crap.' Hutch opened the car door for Starsky to get in. the brunet glowered at his partner, got into the car and sat with his arms crossed. He waited until Hutch had eased himself into the driver's seat and sighed.

'We can't go on like this Blintz.'

'I know.' The words were said with such sadness that for a moment Starsky was lost for words and yet Hutch refused to look him in the eyes. Instead the taller man switched on the engine, pulled away from the parking lot and drove in stony silence through the traffic and out towards Ridgeway.

'Are we finishin' early?' Starsky asked.

'Uh huh.'

'Why?'

Silence.

'I'm ok. Just a headache. I don't need to go home.'

More silence.

'Is it you? Are you ok buddy? Do you feel sick?'

Nod.

Starsky glanced sideways. Hutch did look pale – paler than he normally did and his jaw was set tight, the muscles playing beneath his skin. Remorse flooded through Starsky's body.

'I'm sorry buddy. I was so wrapped up in me I didn't think. Do you need me to get you anythin'? I know Cassy aint home so do you want me to stay with ya?'

_Oh Gods no! That's the last thing I need. Not now. _'I'm fine. I guess I just need some sleep. You're right; lookin' out for you is a tiring job.' The words were said with a little humour and yet the joke did not light up the dull, lifeless crystal blue eyes. Instead, Hutch continued to drive like an automaton, his hands feeding the wheel effortlessly around corners and his feet pressing gas and brake while his mind was somewhere completely different.

They pulled up outside Starsky's house and the brunet turned in his seat. 'You need to look after yourself instead of me Pal. You look like you've got the weight of the world on your shoulders.'

_That and more Starsk. You'll never know coz I'll never tell you. You look after yourself buddy. I love ya man._

'I just need to rest. I'm good.'

'Ok, well, if you need anythin', you know where I am.'

'Yeah, I know.'

The brunet got out of the car and closed the door. As he started to walk away, Hutch called him back.

'Starsk um…..you know I ….. well it's just. You know how much you mean to me and I'm sorry.'

Starsky cocked his head on one side in that endearing way that made the muscles in Hutch's belly tighten. The brunet grinned. 'For what? For worrying about me? For doing your Mother Hen impression? It's only what I come to expect Blondie. Now go home and sleep huh?'

Hutch examined Starsky's face. He took in every line, every slight imperfection on the olive toned skin, the mole on the brunet's cheek, the black lashes and finally he lost himself for one brief moment in those deep indigo eyes.

'Yeah…..I'll go an' make sure I get some proper rest. Don't worry about me. I'm good, just tired.'

The smaller man paused a moment, sure there was something more and yet not wanting to push. He straightened and slapped the top the car. 'See ya tomorrow Blondie. Sleep well.'

_See ya Starsk. Don't know when, but I'll make sure I see you around. _

Hutch put the car in motion but continued to watch in his rear view mirror as his partner walked up the steps to his house, opened the door and was lost from view. The blond sighed, stowed away that last memory and drove quietly and purposefully home.

Starsky walked into the quiet house. Nadia was gone for the night to stay with her Mom and he had the place to himself. Uncharacteristically, the brunet took off his jacket and holster and hung them on the back of a chair instead of putting them away neatly. He took a cold beer from his ice box, found a piece of cheese and some bread and munched on that as he swilled it down with the cold drink. His head ached more than he'd let on to Hutch and as he thought about his partner, he realised just what a strain Hutch had been under. The blond looked more tired than Starsky had seen him in an age – in fact not since Gunther's men had almost taken Starsky out had Hutch looked so exhausted.

Almost from reflex, the brunet reached for the telephone and was about to dial his buddy's number. At the last second, he replaced the handset and snickered to himself.

_Give the guy some space moron. He said he was tired so he's probably tucked up in bed right now snoring his little blond head off and dreaming of the beautiful Cassy._

The chocolate curled cop reached for the latest copy of his Practical Photographer magazine and sat flicking through the pages. He reached an article he'd been meaning to read for a while and stated to plough through the technicalities of F stops and timers. Slowly his eyes slid shut and the ache in his head receded until the magazine slid soundlessly to the floor and Starsky's head fell back to rest on the sofa.

_The night was_ _warm and a sensual breeze blew in from the ocean across the incandescent white sands and over the dunes. Maybugs flitted through the air looking for love and above, gleaming from a cloudless sky, the Milky Way hung in a jewelled ribbon, wrapping the night sky in a loop of delight._

_Starsky walked hand in hand across the beach with his girl. It wasn't Nadia. As he turned, he was staggered to see Terri's twinkling blue eyes shining back at him. On impulse, he put his hand around her slim waist, lifted her off of her feet and whirled her around in the air. She giggled as only Terri could and playfully slapped at his chest._

'_Take me on the Ferris Wheel?' she asked and pointed to the fairground that had suddenly come into view behind them._

_Starsky looked up at the huge wheel and grinned, unphased by the fact that the beach had winked out and in its place was the fairground._

'_Sure thing honey' he replied, glad only to have the love of his life back with him._

_Together, they climbed into the car of the wheel and slowly it started to turn so that they were transported into the air slowly and with such grace that the motion was hardly felt. From high up in the sky the couple could see for miles although in his dream, it was still dark._

_Starsky put his arm around Terri's shoulders and pulled her to him, determined that this time he would never let her go. He gently turned her face to him so that she looked up and tenderly he kissed her lips lingering over the intimacy as though his life depended on it._

_Softly she drew back from him. 'It's been a while.'_

'_Too long. You never did tell me whether you'd marry me.'_

'_Would you marry your best friend?'_

'_In a heartbeat' Starsky replied, drowning in the woman's eyes._

'_What would you do to save them from dying?'_

_The brunet's eyes closed in pain. 'I couldn't stop it honey. I put him in jail. I made sure Prudholm was locked away, but I couldn't stop that bullet. I wanted to, I so….'_

_Terri put her fingers up to the brunet's lips and gently silenced him. 'Sssh, I know, I know. I don't blame you Davey. I'll always love you. But I'm not talking of me. What would you do to stop another best friend from dying?'_

'_Huh? What do you mean honey?' Starsky's eyebrows V'd._

_In answer Terry looked down across the fairground and pointed. Starsky followed her gaze and in the distance he saw a familiar brown coloured car draw to a halt. A moment later Hutch got out looking tired and drawn and slowly the blond walked to the edge of the cliff._

_Starsky's heart lurched. He was high up in the Ferris Wheel and somehow the wheel had stopped moving. In anguish he turned to Terri._

'_Is he ok? What the hell is he doin'?'_

'_What he feels he has to.'_

'_You mean….? No! Why? What's he doin' that for? Hutch….Hutch…..HUUUUUUTCH.' Starsky started to struggle out of the car, trying to get to his partner. He managed to climb out onto the superstructure of the fairground ride when suddenly Terri grabbed his hand._

'_I have to go now Davey.'_

'_No, wait! Terri don't go. I need to get to Hutch but I'll be back. I can't lose you again…..Terri!'_

_The woman's body was beginning to fade from view and the touch of her hand on Starsky's arm was becoming less substantial by the second. The brunet was torn. Should he stay with the one woman he knew he should have spent the rest of his life with, or should he try to get to Hutch, the only man who fully understood him and who cared for him like a brother? Starsky was torn and for a second suffered the agony of indecision._

'_Don't go Terri. Stay with me……please?'_

_In answer Terri smiled a sad smile. 'I have to go Davey. I shouldn't be here but I needed to tell you. I love you both so much. I'll always be here for you, I told you that once before, but you know I can't stay. No-one can turn back death, but you can prevent it from happening for a while. Go to him. Be with him and try to understand him huh? Be HIS best friend…..and forgive him.'_

'_Forgive him? For what? Terri? Terri…..honey, don't leave me.'_

_The woman had almost vanished. Only her voice remained on the air. 'I love you Davey. I always did and I always will, but Hutch loves you just as much. Go save him…….for me.'_

_And in the wink of an eye she was gone._

Starsky shook himself awake shouting Terri's name into the dark of his living room. He felt the moisture of tears on his face and his heart was racing in his chest as the brunet was gripped by an irrational fear that something really had happened to Hutch. This time, the brunet reached for the telephone and dialled the number, waiting impatiently for the phone to pick up and as the ring tone sounded, with each passing bell, Starsky's fear rose until he slammed the receiver down, gathered up his jacket and holster and raced for the door.


	16. Chapter 16

Venice Place was in darkness when Starsky slewed his big car to a halt outside the front of the building. He raced up the steps two at a time and threw himself through the door, catapulting himself into the dark living room.

'Hutch? Hutch, where the hell are ya buddy? HUTCH!'

There was no answer and frantically Starsky opened the bedroom door and looked in. Hutch's bed was empty, the covers drawn up and almost neatly arranged. The blond was never one to be ultra tidy but it was obvious that the bed had not been slept in.

The bathroom was also Hutchless and with panic clawing at his chest Starsky spun around. He knew that it was irrational to feel to panicked by a dream and yet it had seemed so real. His encounter with Terri had been so amazingly lifelike that Starsky truly felt that he had held her in his arms once again. Her words chilled him and for an instant he went back in time to a warmly lit room and a white clad form lying in a hospital bed.

'_I'll always be here…..when you're scared, or alone……I'll be there for you.'_

Had the woman really come back to warn him of some impending disaster? Knowing Terri, the brunet felt sure that she watched over him and would find some way to tell him if either he or his partner were in trouble.

Starsky felt sick to his stomach. His head pounded and his ear throbbed and for a second the room spun out of control. The curly haired man made a grab for the chair and sat down, breathing deeply to get himself back under control.

_C'mon babe. Throw me a line here. What's goin' on in the blond head of yours huh? What's happened that so bad that you have to split? And where've ya gone to? C'mon buddy, gimme a clue._

Starsky closed his eyes, gathering his wits and when he opened them, his gaze fell upon the kitchen table, littered with glasses, the remains of a meal, a bottle of brandy, and what looked like Polaroid photos. Stiffly, Starsky got to his feet and picked up the glossy pictures, looking at the images with a sick feeling of dread. Very slowly, as he stared at the incriminating shots, some of the memories of that night returned. Starsky's legs went weak at the knees and he almost fell onto the upright chair by the table.

The pictures were the two Nigel had sent to Hutch over the past couple of days. Images of Starsky tied to the wall bars, a look of pleasure mixed with pain on his face as Hutch stood behind him, his eyes closed and his hands clutching the brunet's hips.

The world stood still for Starsky.

He'd been raped, that much he knew from the pains in the centre of his body, but he'd not remembered who'd done it. Now his hand shook as he stared at the evidence.

Hutch!

How could he? How could his buddy, his best friend, his partner, his brother……how could he do that? And how come he couldn't tell Starsky when it was all over?

A curious mix of anger and sorrow washed over the brunet. Sorrow that he'd had to find out this way exactly what had gone on and anger that whoever had had them had forced Hutch to violate him.

Force?

Was that even possible?

The brunet's emotions were running wild. Sure he was close to Hutch – closer than he'd ever been to another human being, but there was close and then there was this. Again he steeled himself and looked at the two photographs. They seemed to have been taken in quick succession and now the detective part of Starsky's mind took over.

The photos were taken by a third party, they had to have been. Who was it? And why had they chosen that place that looked like…..looked like…..oh fuck! The gym. Nigel! He couldn't have! And yet….

Starsky looked back at the kitchen table full of the detritus of Hutch's last meal. By the side of the bottle of brandy was a screwed up piece of paper and Starsky reached for it with growing anger. He opened it and stared at the writing.

**Don't dig around, Ken, you never know what you might uncover. Remember, I have all the negatives.**

The writing was cold, precise, not a shake of the pen anywhere. The words were incriminating; threatening and suddenly Starsky heard Terri's voice ringing in his head.

_No-one can turn back death, but you can prevent it from happening for a while. Go to him. Be with him and try to understand him huh? Be HIS best friend…..and forgive him._

The ugly truth dawned. For some reason…..and he thought he knew what it was, Nigel had orchestrated this whole thing and was now blackmailing the blond. What it had cost Hutch to do that to his best friend…..what it must have put Hutch through to have to assault Starsky in that most horrific way. The signs had all been there and yet Starsky had been so wrapped up in his own injuries and sense of injustice that he'd ignored Hutch's quietness, his withdrawal into himself and his ever more haggard appearance. The blond had tried to keep it all to himself, maybe from pride, or hurt or maybe to save Starsky from the devastating truth and yet Starsky had been oblivious.

At the end of the day, it had all be Starsky's fault to begin with. If he'd just kept his big mouth shut and stopped his jokes around Nigel, all this might not have happened.

And now?

Where was Hutch? And what was the blond doing?

_No-one can turn back death, but you can prevent it from happening for a while. Go to him. Be with him and try to understand him huh? Be HIS best friend…..and forgive him._

Terri had always been wise as well as beautiful. She'd warned him…..Was Hutch going to do something stupid? Could things really be so bad? And above all, was she, and ultimately Starsky, in time to save Hutch's life?

Starsky stood still for a moment and thought and then, on impulse, he checked the cupboard behind the door where the blond habitually hung his holster and gun. The door swung open on creaking hinges but the hook was empty. Panic turned to fear now as the curly haired cop searched the apartment for Hutch's car keys. He hadn't remembered seeing the battered mud coloured car outside but that wasn't unusual. Helene had often asked Hutch to park around the back, saying the heap of rust made the neighbourhood look down at heel.

Racing back down the steps, Starsky ran around the corner. The car was nowhere in sight and now, with his heart hammering in his chest, Starsky rushed back to his own car and got in. he slammed his hands against the steering wheel.

Fuck! Where the hell was Hutch? What had the blond done and was Starsky going to be in time to get to him before the prophecy Terri gave in his dream came true. The brunet closed his eyes. Where would Hutch go? Where?

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For some time now Hutch had sat on the cool sand, hidden by a rock so that the evening breeze would not chill him through. This was his own private thinking place. Up the coast a few miles from the usual beach where he jogged with Starsky, the rocky headland had carved a small, quiet, cove with a tiny white beach at its head and a host of rock pools down by the waters edge.

It was here that Hutch brought Starsky once the brunet had been discharged from the hospital after Gunther's goons attack. His buddy had been weak but had felt the need for fresh air, although he also wanted to keep his scars to himself for a while. Both men felt isolated here with only the sound of the waves crashing against the rocks, the water hissing gently against the white sand and the gulls crying mournfully overhead. It became a place of escape when either man needed some time alone and now Hutch was back for one last time.

The drive back from Starsky's house had been accomplished in a daze. Hutch had been on tenter hooks all that day in case Starsky should find out what had gone on and upon hearing his partner's views on what he would do to his attacker when he found him, Hutch's spirits had plummeted to an all time low.

Starsky would not forgive his attacker. The brunet would loathe Hutch for what he'd done and the blond could no longer imagine a life with the brunet if Starsky hated him so much. Truth to tell Hutch hated himself just as much and that feeling of being worthless had led to him making this final journey.

Hutch had called back at his house briefly, had taken one more tortuous look at the photographs Nigel had lft him and had made up is mind. He was caught between a rock and a hard place – he couldn't tell Starsky what had happened and neither could he keep it to himself. Faced with those mutually antagonistic views, there was little left for the blond to do. Hutch had wondered briefly whether to leave a note but had decided against it. This was his own decision and he wanted no one else to feel bad about it or sorry for him. His only regret was that he hadn't been able to say a final goodbye to Starsky, but that couldn't be helped and Hutch hoped that in the years to come, the brunet would learn to forgive him.

Checking he had a couple of bullets in his gun, Hutch closed the door on Venice Place for the last time, climbed back into his car and headed to the cove.

It was growing dark when he got there, but there was a full moon and a clear night and the starlight lit his way as he picked a path through the rocks and down the small cliff face to the beach at the foot. He stood for a while watching the ocean, hypnotised by the approach and retreat of the waves upon the beach. The cool evening breeze played with his flaxen bangs and tugged at the legs of his jeans and Hutch shivered, turned away from the ocean and found a secluded spot by the side of the rock. There was no rush. Time seemed irrelevant now. He could pick his own time to do this and so long as he'd finished by morning, everything would be fine. Hutch lay back, his back to the hard rock and looked out at the white line of surf.

Life with Starsky had been good. He'd been blessed with a partner whom he loved dearly and who loved him back unconditionally. His family had been dysfunctional and barring his sister Karen, they had never really understood Hutch. His father in particular could never understand the young man who had a dreamers, poets outlook on life.

The blond sighed and took out his Colt, examining the lethal weapon in the moonlight. The blued metal shone dully and Hutch ran his fingers along the 6" barrel – the same barrel that had been used in such a violent way on his partner. The gun had saved his life more than once over the years and had also saved Starsky's life, but now, Hutch could only look at it with cold hatred. At least this way, the weapon would be put to a final good use.

For long moments, Hutch stared at the Magnum, examining it from all angles. He wiped a grain of sand from the muzzle and stared down that single malevolent eye, imagining what it would feel like when the bullet impacted with his skull. Would it hurt? Would the pain register for even one second? Would his life flash before his eyes like it did in the movies? Or would he experience one final thought before oblivion? There was only one way to find out and with a deep breathe, Hutch raised the gun and placed it beneath his chin, his forefinger on the trigger as he closed his eyes.

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Starsky drove blindly. He felt more panicked than he'd ever done before and although he'd never fully held with what others called a psychic connection he and Hutch seemed to have, this time something seemed to be drawing him away from the city and out onto the coast road. The brunet didn't stop to think, he sensed something was far from right with Hutch. What had stopped the flaxen haired cop from talking to him was….well when Starsky analysed the matter, he realised that if he'd been placed in the same position, he, Starsky would probably have tried to keep quiet too. But time for talking was long gone by. Now Starsky followed his instincts and allowed his hands to nurse the car around the bends in the road and out towards the beach. As he drove, Starsky continued to wonder where his blond partner might have gone, but as he started to turn north of the city, his mind went back to the quiet secluded cove he and Hutch had visited. The place had held special memories for the two of them and Hutch had often said that the cove made him feel at peace with himself. Feeling somehow certain that that was where his partner would be, Starsky floored the gas pedal and roared along the coast road as fast as the bends and curves would allow. Within 10 minutes, he'd arrived at the top of the cliff and without waiting to close the car door, he switched off the engine, leapt over the hood of the car and started a fast and precarious descent of the rocky face.

Twice the brunet stumbled, losing his footing on the loose sand of the path. Once, he fell to his knees and would have tumbled head over heels down the cliff if he hadn't managed to catch a hold of the tussocky grass lining the faint sand walkway. Eventually, breathing hard and with the blood pounding in his ears, he hit the beach and stopped, listening and scanning the pale sand for signs that Hutch was there.

The sound of the ocean hissing against the sand drew his attention away from other sounds. Overhead the stars cast their cold clear light on the white sand, deepening the shadows thrown out by the rocks and there, blending in with the rocky shadows was a softer, more human form.

Starsky stood stock still as he realised that Hutch was holding something to his throat. From a distance it was difficult to make out but as the blond moved slightly, Starsky realised from the shape and weight that it was Hutch's Colt Python and it was about to be put to deadly use.

Time stood still and the brunet knew not whether to call out and startle his partner, or whether to creep up on him and hope that he wouldn't be too late. Either way, one slip of the trigger finger would end in tragedy.

Always one for action rather than procrastination, Starsky made his choice and raced up the beach, his sneakered feet sinking into the soft sand as he strived to faster, although his legs felt like lead and his feet refused to run fast enough. He ran as though in a nightmare world where the sand sucked him down deeper into its embrace but finally he seemed to make progress.

'Huuuutch……Hutch, stop. Huuuutch.' Starsky yelled at the top of his voice as the wind took his words and ripped them from his mouth. He watched in terror as Hutch's head turned, the moonlight reflecting in the crystal blue eyes. Those eyes widened perceptibly as the blond saw Starsky running up the beach and the gun dropped from his hand as Hutch put his head down and covered it with his arms, shutting out the world and most of all the brunet.

Starsky skidded to a halt on his knees in front of the blond, grabbed for the Colt and put it behind him.

'Hutch what the fuck are you doin'?' he panted, trying to see his buddy's face through the tangle of arms.

There was no answer although the blond's shoulders were now shaking and Hutch was making small mewling noises in his throat. Starsky tried again, wrestling with the bond cop until he was straddled Hutch pinning the taller man's arms above his head in an effort to see his face.

'Don't fight me babe. Hutch, stop that, for fucks sake will you stop a minute?'

'Go 'way. Leave me alone, ya don't understand' Hutch wailed, his face wet with tears and his arms struggling to break free from Starsky's iron grasp.

'What don't I understand? That you were gonna blow your brains out? I understand that all too well Bintz.'

'You don't know shit. Just leave me alone huh? It's the best for both of us.'

'Like hell it is. Hutch, I …..oomph.' the breath whistled out of Starsky's chest as Hutch managed to throw him off and landed a kick into the brunet's solar plexus. Starsky crawled after him and grabbed Hutch's foot, dragging his partner back but as he did, Hutch balled his fist and swung a blow at his jaw. The brunet fell back, but righted himself as Hutch dove for his gun again. Starsky dove after him, landing on Hutch's back and this time, he grabbed the blond's wrists and forced them behind him, finally adding cuffs to stop the blond from struggling further.

'NOOOO' Hutch yelled and wriggled around so that he could focus his blazing eyes on Starsky.

Panting the brunet sat back and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. 'No what?'

'Don't try to stop me. I need to do this. I need to…'

'You need to let Nigel win?' Starsky asked quietly. There was an eternity of silence before Hutch broke it.

'What?' he whispered.

'I know what happened that night. I know who did that to me and I know how much it must have hurt them to do it.' Starsky raised his hand to wipe away a tear from Hutch's face but the blond drew back angrily.

'You have no idea.'

'I know you hurt enough to try to kill yourself. Nothing's that bad Hutch.'

'You mean fucking your best friend is just like a walk in the park?' the blond spat bitterly.

'You know it's not, but it aint worth dyin' for.'

Hutch lifted pain filled eyes and rested them on his friend. 'I can't live with what I've done.'

'And I can't live without you' Starsky replied.

'You can and you will.'

'Uh uh. Aint gonna happen Blondie. Are you still set on doin' yourself in?'

'I assaulted you. I…. fucked you. How can you say you know how I feel? I can't live with those memories. They haunt me Starsk. They're with me every waking minute and then they form my nightmares. And now you know an' it's even worse.'

'You'd really go through with it?' Starsky asked softly. He watched the blond nod his head once.

'Fine, then I go first' Starsky took a hold of the Colt and placed it to his temple. 'Is that right? Temple shot? Or maybe in the mouth, that'd make a real mess huh? Or under the chin? That'd do the job too.'

'Starsk don't. Don't fool around.'

'Who says I'm foolin'? if you're gonna waste your life, you're gonna have to watch me waste mine first. Deal?'

'Fuck you Starsky' Hutch said almost angrily.

'Uh huh. That's right. You fucked me, You were forced, I'm guessin' at gunpoint. It wasn't your choice and it wasn't mine, but it happened. We deal, we move on. It goes with the territory of bein' a cop Hutch. Like getting' shot, or bein' beaten up by some flake. It's just another kind of injury. I'm not pretendin' I like it, but there again I don't care for being bullet fodder either.'

Hutch stared at his partner. 'And you can just move on, and forgive and forget?'

'Forgive you? Course. Forgive Nigel? Never and I'm gonna find him and make him pay. Some day. But right now I wanna make sure you're ok.'

'It should be me askin' you that question.'

'Yeah, you should, but instead you're intent on givin' the undertakers more work. Unless you're gonna change your mind?'

I couldn't stop him Starsk. You were od thingut of your head and he had you…..he forced me, to watch while he……with my own gun. That bloody gun. He did that to you and I couldn't do a damned thing to stop him. I'm sorry Starsk…..I'm so damned sorry.'

Hutch's face crumpled and he let out a wail of such forlornness and pain that Starsky moved closer and did the only thing he could think of. He released the cuffs from around Hutch's wrists and wrapped his own strong arms around the blond, rocking him gently backwards and forwards until the sobbing ceased and the cool night breeze chilled them through.

Quietly, the two men got to their feet and made their way slowly back to the car. Ignoring Hutch's battered brown car that he'd hidden across the road, Starsky loaded his buddy into his own car, eased in besides him and drove quietly home. As he reached Venice Place, he was relieved to see that Hutch was fast asleep. Not wanting to ruin the blond's rest, Starsky took off his jacket, covered Hutch with it and settled down to quietly watch over his buddy.

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**Two weeks later**

'Come in Mr Hutchinson. I'm Dr Wilson and I'll be helping you through the next few weeks. This is your friend? Mr um….'

The brunet held out his hand. 'Starsky. Dave Starsky. Thanks Doc.'

The doctor smiled and sat down on an easy chair by the side of the blond. Hutch smiled warily and looked over to Starsky who winked back.

'Now Mr Hutchinson…..may I call you Ken?'

'No. No one calls me Ken. Well there was this one guy but…..I'm Hutch.'

'Fine, Hutch. Now tell me what brings you to our little counseling sessions huh?'

Quietly Starsky listened as hutch started, falteringly at first, to tell the doctor the history of the saga with Nigel. Hutch had fought hard over the past two weeks to deal with his demons but now, after coaxing from the brunet he had finally accepted expert help.

Starsky sat back and sighed softly.

Things would get back to normal one day…..whatever "normal" was.

So long as he had Hutch in his abnormal world, Starsky would be a happy man

------fin------


End file.
